


Rose of Sharon

by raiseyourpinky



Series: Rose of Sharon [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dean and Castiel raise a puppy, Dean/Cas Big Bang 2019 (Supernatural), Dry Humping, F/M, Feminism, Forbidden, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Important Character Death (not Dean Sam or Castiel), Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M, Mary has cancer, Mary is terminally ill, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Philosophy, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Professor-Student Relationship, Religion, Slow Burn, They are both very soft with each other, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, emotional breakdowns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 21:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 57,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21143756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiseyourpinky/pseuds/raiseyourpinky
Summary: At thirty-seven, Dean is a successful business owner living in Austin, Texas. With the help of his family, Dean takes care of his sick mom. It’s because of Mary that Dean decides to enroll in college at his age.At school, he finds he really enjoys his philosophy classes taught by two really cool, really gay professors. Charlie and Professor Novak become Dean’s friends, but things remain completely professional. Except for the part where Dean might have a huge crush on Professor Novak—or Castiel—who’s kind and intelligent and considers Dean his favorite student. Soon, Dean and Castiel find themselves getting closer, and it becomes impossible to ignore their mutual attraction. Between them grows something that comes to mean more than either of them had ever imagined.This is a story about love, loss, family, friendship, and gaining courage in the hardest situations.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first Dean/Cas Big Bang. Considering that I’ve been writing Dean/Cas fanfiction since 2012, it was long overdue. I have never enjoyed working on a project more than I enjoyed working on this.
> 
> I put so much of my own life into this story, into the characters. I took every college course that is mentioned in this fic. I had a crush on a fantastic professor who taught World Religions and gave out chocolates on the first day of classes. (Those are the only similarities between her and Professor Castiel, I promise).
> 
> But I wrote this more out of necessity than desire. I wrote this to heal my own wounds, four years after my mom’s passing. I wrote this to bring some joy into my life, and maybe into other people’s lives, too. I wrote this because I still can’t--and probably will never--stop loving the incredible connection between Dean Winchester and Castiel. They are truly the only couple I would put this much work into.
> 
> I love this story more than anything else I’ve ever written. It’s personal and yet still far enough from the truth for it to be completely fictitious. I hope this brings even just a bit of happiness to you because it made me ridiculously giddy to write and edit and edit and edit.
> 
> Finally, I want to thank three amazing people for all their help and enthusiasm in bringing this project to life. First, I want to thank the lovely [heylittleangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heylittleangel) for cheering me on from the earliest stages of this fic. Her enthusiasm pushed me to keep on writing, and all of her feedback and suggestions made this so much better than I could have ever imagined. Thanks for being the best beta, and also a great friend. Second, I want to thank my best friend, Nicole, who was my second beta, and caught all of those small details that are so easy to overlook. If there are any still left, blame me, not her. She was very supportive and helpful and great. And third, thank you to the wonderfully talented [purgatory-jar](https://purgatory-jar.tumblr.com/) who went above and beyond with her artwork. She brought to life my story and characters in a way I had never expected. I’m always in awe of her work, but she really nailed the work she did for my fic. I couldn’t have gotten a better partner for this project. Thank you for choosing me from a long list of fascinating stories. I’m so, so lucky. (Link to [art](https://purgatory-jar.tumblr.com/post/188546269282/dcbb-2019-rose-of-sharon-art-by-me-fic-by))
> 
> And thank you in advance for taking the time to read this. I hope you enjoy the ride.
> 
> -raiseyourpinky

“Sweet like candy to my soul.  
Sweet you rock, and sweet you roll.  
Lost for you. I'm so lost for you.”

-Dave Matthews Band, _ Crash into Me _

There were good days in Dean’s life. 

There were days when he woke up a couple of minutes before his alarm clock, showered, made breakfast, and ate quietly with Mary and Sam at the table. All good days had to start with a good morning, especially if it was with his family.

But there were also bad days. 

On those days, Dean usually woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of a cry for help coming from Mary’s room. He’d rush in, help her sit up, and give her some pain medication—morphine these days. Then he’d stay up the rest of the night to make sure she was okay. On those days, there wasn’t any breakfast. They ate Pop-Tarts or cereal, something quick and easy.

Dean tried not to bother Sam too much with all the stuff that needed to be taken care of. Sam led a busy life as an attorney, but when Mary had gotten sick, he’d cut back on his hours and moved in with Dean and Mary. Dean had been renting a house downtown, but he’d broken his lease right after Mary’s diagnosis. Mary had thought it was ridiculous having her two grown sons living back at home, but they didn’t care. They were both going to take care of her. Sam never did any of the cooking—he bought take-out—and helped Mary with anything she needed. Dean had also cut back on his hours at work. However, he was the boss so it wasn’t as difficult.

In the two months they’d been dealing with _ this _, Dean felt like they’d finally found their rhythm. The situation wasn’t easy—far from it—but it was manageable. That was the only reason he’d decided to enroll in college at the ripe old age of thirty-seven. He didn’t need a degree because he already owned his own business, but he wanted to learn. At least, that had been the plan before everything went to hell. He would have opted out of it if it hadn’t been for Sam and their stubborn, stubborn mom.

Today was a good day.

Freshly out of the shower, Dean got started on breakfast. He was in a good mood, so he made pancakes _ and _ waffles, hash browns, and lots of bacon. 

Just as he was setting the table, Mary walked into the kitchen. Her walks were slower now, her feet sliding on the tiled floor. She was wearing a scarf on her head to cover up her baldness. It had been easier to shave it all off than to suffer through the chunks that kept falling off. When she looked at the table, her face lit up with a smile. She loved waffles.

“Hey, Mom, have a seat,” Dean said. “It’s all ready. What can I get you to drink? OJ? Water?”

“Coffee,” she said, taking a seat at the head of the table—her usual spot.

Dean smiled, setting a full plate in front of her. “I thought we were cutting back on caffeine. Isn’t that what you promised the doctor?”

“Actually, Dr. Patel said caffeine could help with the headaches, so I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

“Yes, he did say that, but he said it because your weekly medication gives you headaches. Do you have a headache now?”

She leveled her eyes on him. “Since when did we switch roles here? Last time I checked, I was still your mother. So as your mother, I have the final say.”

Dean shook his head. “I guess there’s no point in arguing.”

“Good boy.”

Dean grabbed a purple mug from the shelf and filled it with coffee. Then he poured two little Splenda bags inside, and a bit of hazelnut creamer before he stirred it. “Here you go, Mom.” Dean placed the mug next to her plate and kissed the top of her head. “How are you feeling today? No pain?”

“I’m good,” she said, taking a bite of the waffle.

“You sure?”

“No reason to lie, Dean.”

Dean nodded. “Alright.” Then he checked the time on the stove. It was 7:50 a.m. “Why the hell is Sam not up yet?”

“He went out for a run,” she said. She sipped her coffee and sighed.

“Why would he go for a run? Is he prepping for a marathon or something? He’s got enough on his plate to do that, too.” Dean sat beside Mary and started eating.

A few minutes later, Sam walked in the door, sweaty and panting like he’d really gone out and run a marathon. 

“What smells good?” Sam asked, taking off his wireless headphones.

“Breakfast,” Dean said. “Eat up. It’s getting cold.”

“I can’t eat yet. I gotta shower first. Too sweaty.”

“We don’t care,” Mary said. “Just sit and eat.”

Sam sighed. “Alright, alright.” He pulled out the chair across from Dean, where the third plate had been set. “I had a great run this morning. I can’t even feel my legs right now.”

“What made you do something as stupid as going for a run? In the _ morning _?” Dean asked.

“I want to be healthier,” Sam said. “I realized that I sit at my desk at work, and I sit on the couch at home. I haven’t made any time for exercise. There’s this guy at my firm who runs every morning, and he says he’s in the best shape of his life. I figured I could try it.”

Dean scrunched his nose. “Gross.”

“Exercise isn’t gross.” Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean. “You should try it sometime. You know, to live a long and healthy life.”

“What’s wrong with the way I live my life?”

“For starters, you’re eating half a pig with all that bacon on your plate.”

“So, what, bacon’s bad for you all of a sudden?”

“Bacon’s always been bad for you!”

“Boys, please,” Mary said. She didn’t have to raise her voice for them to shut up on command. “No fighting at the table.”

Dean smiled at her, and then at Sam, who was already smiling back.

Yeah, there were definitely good days.

♦

Going to college had started as a small idea a few years ago. Winchester’s Auto Services had really picked up then, and Dean wondered if college would ever work out for him. However, it wasn’t just managing his time. It was enduring the embarrassment that attending college at his age would bring. For a while, Dean didn’t mention his idea to anyone. Not even to Sam. But the more time passed, the more Dean wanted it. He wanted to go to school to learn. He’d started his own business with his high school degree and nothing more. He should be happy with his life. But something had always been missing.

As soon as Dean shared his idea with Sam, he knew it had stopped being a small idea, and was becoming a _ thing _ in his life. Eager and excited, Sam guided Dean through the college application process. Dean looked into many different colleges until he found one that interested him. University of Texas at Austin looked fun, not that Dean wanted fun. He really just wanted to learn. Besides, it was about a ten-minute drive from his house. It was good and convenient.

Dean gave in for two reasons—Sam and Mary. They’d both been over the moon with Dean’s “small idea,” and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been totally giddy, too. With their support, Dean applied to UT Austin and waited to hear a response. When he got his acceptance letter, Dean could hardly believe it. The first and only college he’d ever applied to actually accepted him. But before Dean registered for classes, Mary got sick. It started out as a little cough, but things never stay that simple.

One doctor visit told them all they needed to know. Mary had cancer. In her lungs. A non-smoker with lung cancer. A classic case of are-you-kidding-me. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was how it had spread everywhere. They had a word for it. They said it had _ metastasized _. 

With Mary’s cancer, Dean refused to go to school. He was going to take care of her. School was a selfish thing for him. If only Mary saw things that way. One day, right after one of her chemos at the hospital, she took his face in her hands and said, “Dean, my stubborn boy, you are going to get your butt to college or I’ll kick it into next December. Are we clear?”

Dean couldn’t argue with her. 

That was how Dean found himself at the college campus, searching aimlessly for his first classroom. He’d only signed up for two classes. He surprised himself with his choices, but found that he was very interested to take them. 

The first one was a Feminism Philosophy course, which he was taking Mondays and Wednesdays at 11:00 a.m. The second one was a World Religions course, also philosophy. Dean had never considered himself a philosophical person, but he was going to roll with it. That class started right after the first one. 

When Dean finally found his Feminism class, he wasn’t surprised to see that the majority of the students were women. He didn’t know a whole lot about feminism, but he wanted to, hence the course. He didn’t mind being one of the only four men in the class, but he _ did _ mind being the oldest one. 

“We have us another victim.”

Dean sat down at one of the empty desks at the front and looked ahead. The young professor was dressed more like a student with her ripped jeans, Star Wars t-shirt, and pink sweater. Her red hair was tied up in a ponytail. Very informal. Dean liked that.

“Uh, hi,” Dean said, realizing she’d been talking about him.

“Glad you could join us,” she said. “I think that’s all of us, so I’ll get started. I think the name of this class is pretty straightforward, am I right? We’re learning about feminism. It’s history, it’s philosophy, it’s theory, and everything in between. There are many women philosophers that are left out of ordinary philosophy courses. We’ll be talking a lot about them.” She paused, smiling at everyone in the room. “I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I? Darn. I knew I was missing something. I’m Charlie Bradbury. You can call me Ms. Bradbury or Charlie, but please don’t call me Professor Bradbury because that makes me feel ancient. Also, no, I am not Dr. Bradbury. I don’t have my doctorate yet.”

Dean smiled. Okay, he’d definitely made the right choice with this class.

♦

After Feminism, Dean didn’t struggle as much to find his next class. It was in the same building, a few halls down. He arrived a few minutes early and sat all the way at the back. As much as he’d enjoyed Feminism, sitting all the way at the front hadn’t been his favorite thing. He’d felt exposed. Besides, he’d always been a back-of-the-room type of student. 

Dean got settled and pulled out his cell phone to check any missed texts or calls. He had one.

**Sam:** _I went to work after Ellen got here. She brought Mom soup and a few records. Mom looked happy. I think I might get home late. Don’t wait up for me._

**Dean: ** _ More Queen? Also no one ever waits up for you, bitch. _

“Good afternoon, class,” a deep, rough voice said from the front.

Dean put his phone back in his pocket and looked up. This professor looked older than Charlie. He wore gray slacks, a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a gray waistcoat. His dark hair was in disarray, and he wore a pair of blue-frame glasses. He squinted as his gaze traveled the classroom, almost like he was taking in everyone’s faces at once. When he locked eyes with Dean, Dean smiled, but the professor simply continued looking at all the others.

“It appears we have a full class today,” he said, clearing his throat. “My name is Professor Novak. This is World Religions. I’m assuming most of you have already seen the classroom syllabus I posted on Blackboard. If not, then you may access it there. Throughout the semester, we will discuss Hinduism, Buddhism, Daoism and Confucianism, Islam, Judaism, and Christianity. I know this all may sound overwhelming at the moment, but it will all be evenly spread out with enough time to gain all the knowledge necessary. There will be two exams: a midterm and a final. There will be a quiz at the end of every section, and there will be one major research paper. Are there any questions?”

Dean swallowed. All he’d done in Feminism was sit while the class took turns writing on the board what feminism meant to each of them. (Dean wrote “equality” when it was his turn, though it was a repeated answer). Then Charlie went over all of them and they had a good time. But this? This sounded like work. And he hadn’t been here for more than five minutes. What the hell was Blackboard? Where could he access that? Why did he need a syllabus? He wrote his questions down to ask Sam when he got home. And then he looked up because he noticed Professor Novak turning the projector on and clicking through his laptop.

“I would like to preface this class by stating that I am not here to guide you on a spiritual journey,” Professor Novak said. “I am not here to persuade you to join a certain religion. I am not here to answer whether or not God, or any variation, is real. I am simply here to teach you about the philosophy of various religions in existence.” The seriousness on his face disappeared after another scan of the room. Professor Novak broke into a smile, something that wrinkled his eyes and lit up his face. He had a nice smile. “Now that we’re on the same page, I’d like to show you some pictures.”

Dean sighed in relief. He wasn’t ready to jump into lecture on his first day. He hadn’t been in school for nineteen years. He needed to be eased into the whole thing again. 

Professor Novak pulled up a few pictures of what looked like fancy churches. “Here’s a little something about me. I’ve just recently moved to Texas. For the past four years, I’ve lived in London. It was phenomenal, and I loved every minute of it. However, the cost of living in London was far above my budget, which is why I moved back home. I’m an Austin native, and I’m glad to be back. No, not true. I do still miss London fiercely, but in the words of Vonnegut, so it goes.”

“You like Vonnegut?” Dean asked. It just slipped out of him. Dean resisted the urge to hide under his desk. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself. That was why he sat all the way at the back.

Professor Novak turned to him at the question, his eyebrows raised. “Yes. I do, in fact, like Kurt Vonnegut. I didn’t know there was another Vonnegut fan in my class. What’s your name?”

Dean tried not to blush with the attention of the classroom on him. “I’m Dean. I love Vonnegut. He’s my favorite author, right after Kerouac.”

“Ah, I’m afraid that is where you and I will disagree,” Professor Novak said, shaking his head. “I’ve never quite enjoyed Kerouac’s prose.”

“He’s not for everyone,” Dean said. He was feeling a little bit bolder. 

“No, he isn’t.” Professor Novak smiled, this time only at Dean. It was a different smile, crooked. “Now, let’s continue before I’m rudely interrupted again.”

Dean blushed this time, bright red. 

“I’m kidding,” Professor Novak said, looking at Dean before he addressed the rest of the class. “I welcome interruptions. Jump in with questions, commentary, song lyrics—as long as they’re relevant to the material.”

“Is that a cathedral?” someone in the front row asked.

Professor Novak nodded. “Indeed, it is. This is St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. It’s a beautiful place.” He clicked through the pictures, showing the long rows of pews and tall ceilings full of gold colors. The architecture was incredible. Everything was so perfectly built. 

Dean wasn’t very religious, but he’d loved to go into one of those places and pray. Yeah, he’d pray.

“This was one of my favorite locations to visit in London,” Professor Novak said. “It was often quiet, peaceful. I wanted to share this with you because, as you’re aware, we will be discussing religions. You might hear the word ‘religion’ and assume I’m talking about Christianity, when, in fact, Christianity is not the default. You might assume I’m talking about a hateful group of people forcing their views on others. Religion is a powerful word, and it often carries a negative connotation. I want to change that from your minds. In this classroom, religion is cultural. It is a safety net that has existed for thousands of years for people. It is a form of expression. It is a quiet, peaceful place where a gay man might run to every week for meditation.” He smiled again. 

Dean hadn’t been expecting two of his teachers to out themselves in front of their classes. (Charlie had told them she was a _ big ol’ lesbian _—her own words). He was a little relieved, though. College was much more liberal than high school had been. He would have never come out in high school. He waited until he was twenty to do that.

“Since we will be learning about traditions,” Professor Novak continued, “I wanted to introduce you to a little tradition of mine.” He pulled out a big bag of mini chocolates from his bag. “Every year, I give my students chocolates. This bag is full of chocolates. They’re assorted, so there’s a bit of everything. Kit-Kats, Snickers, Twix, Reese’s, they’re all here. Each one of these chocolates tastes very different from the other. Some have peanuts, some have wafers, some have caramel. And yet, they’re all bulked together and called chocolate. It’s the same way with religion. The word ‘religion’ doesn’t come close to describing the complexity of what it encompasses. But enough about that. I’ll give you your chocolates now.”

Professor Novak went around the room, offering the open bag to every student for them to pick their favorite chocolate. He stayed and chatted a bit with some of them, a friendly smile on his face. When he made it to Dean, he let out a long sigh before he offered the bag to him. “I’m not sure how I feel about giving chocolates to a Kerouac fan.”

“But I’m also a Vonnegut fan, so that should give me some points in my favor, right?” Dean asked, digging for a Twix. 

Professor Novak hummed, and then he nodded. “You make an excellent argument, Dean. I’m looking forward to having you in my class.”

Dean ate his chocolate and relished in the flow of positive feelings surging through him. 

This—the college, the courses—had been the right choice.


	2. Chapter 2

“And please say to me   
you’ll let me hold your hand.”

-The Beatles,  _ I Want to Hold Your Hand _

When Dean got home after school—which, whoa, that was an interesting sentence—he found Mary and Sam huddled up at the kitchen table. They stopped talking when Dean walked into the room. He tensed up. It wasn’t like them to have secret conversations.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked, directing the question to Sam. “What’d you do? I thought you were getting home late today.”

Sam scoffed. “Why do you always assume I did something?”

“’Cause I know you,” Dean said, stepping closer until he stood behind one of the empty kitchen chairs. “What’s with the looks you’re both giving me? Out with it.” Dean had the sinking feeling that whatever it was, he wouldn’t like it. But still, he had to know.

Sam exchanged a glance with Mary, who nodded slowly. Then Sam turned to Dean, and cleared his throat. “Dean, you should sit.”

“I’m good,” Dean said quickly. “What is it? Is it you, Mom? Did you feel sick today?”

Mary smiled up at him. “Sweetheart, I feel sick every day.”

Dean swallowed the knot in his throat. “Why do I have to sit?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Sam amended. “Look, Dean, I just finished writing up Mom’s will. I know you were against it, but it was necessary.”

Anger seeped through Dean.  _ That’s why they’d been acting all weird? _ “I thought I told you we didn’t need a will. Mom’s not dying anytime soon.”

“Dean,” Mary said, patiently. Dean hated when she did that. 

“No, Mom. You don’t get to get ready to die. You’re being treated for this, alright? You’re going to get better. Soon, you’ll go into remission. We don’t need a stupid will.” 

“Dean, you’re in denial,” Sam said.

Dean gawked at him. Sam was his little brother, but he was speaking to Dean as if he were his parent. Dean wouldn’t put up with this.  _ Any _ of this. “We’re not losing Mom. If the two of you are ready to give up, then I want no part of it. You better rip up that will, Sammy.”

“I won’t,” Sam said, clenching his jaw.

Dean narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin as he stared at Sam. Way deep down, in the back of his mind, Dean knew his fight was weak. He knew there was a truth he wasn’t accepting. But it was too deeply buried for it to change the way he felt at the moment. Gutted. Betrayed. “I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

Dean grabbed his keys from the table near the front door. “Out.” He slammed the door behind him, and then climbed into his Chevy Impala. As he got on the road, Dean thought about his dad. John Winchester had died almost twenty years ago, when Dean was still a boy. He’d died young, in a car wreck, driving the same ’67 Impala Dean drove now. Dean had fixed up the car, and he’d kept it. An inheritance of sorts. But that had been different.

This was his mom. She wasn’t going to die. She wasn’t.

Dean was sure of it.

_ _

♦

_ _

The roads took Dean nowhere. All he did was drive and drive until the music drowned out his thoughts. He listened to the same tape repeatedly. Queen’s Greatest Hits, according to Mary.  _ Crazy Little Thing Called Love _ was on it twice because that was her favorite song. Dean sang along softly. The lyrics he knew so well were comforting. Mary was a romantic. Unlike Dean, Mary believed that there was someone out there for everyone. A perfect companion to fill your life with joy and love. She always said John had been that person for her. Growing up, she told Dean and Sam that they would each find someone they loved that much, too. Someone they could grow old with. Of course, that didn’t make any sense since John died before either of them got old.

Dean wanted to ask Mary why she had never stopped believing in this romantic nonsense when the supposed love of her life was taken from her so soon. But he hadn’t asked yet. He was saving the question for a better time. 

Maybe tomorrow.

_ _

♦

_ _

Dean made it home shortly after midnight. Mary and Sam were both in bed already. Dean tried not to make much noise as he took a piss and brushed his teeth. He tiptoed to his bedroom because the wooden floors creaked like old knees. 

He noticed the cupcake on his nightstand as soon as he closed the door. There was a Post-It note beside it.

_ Mom and Ellen made cupcakes for you. _

_ We’re proud of you. Don’t be such a jerk next time. _

_ -Sam _

Dean smiled and picked up the cupcake. It was chocolate. His favorite. He took a bite and licked off the icing from his upper lip. It was delicious. 

Dean hated when Sam was right.

_ _

♦

_ _

The next day, Dean woke up earlier than usual to get started on breakfast. He wanted to wake up his family in the best way he knew how. There was nothing like waking up to the smell of bacon. It was more effective than a siren call.

Mary stepped into the kitchen wearing a purple scarf around her head. The bags under her eyes were more prominent. But her smile hadn’t changed. It was the same genuine one that Dean would never tire of seeing.

“Morning,” Dean said, cheerily.

“You’re in a good mood today.” Mary eyed him warily. “No more temper tantrums?”

Dean rolled his eyes, filling up three plates with scrambled eggs and bacon. “I think I got it all out of my system.”

Mary snorted, taking a seat on her usual spot. “How was your first day?”

Dean placed a plate in front of Mary. “It was good. Can’t really complain. My professors seem like cool people. Very gay.”

Mary nearly spat out her food. When she locked eyes with Dean, they started laughing. It was a long laugh that only further raised Dean’s spirits. Until Mary’s laughter turned into a long, phlegmy cough. It left her heaving and breathless, but Dean had learned not to throw a fuss over it. Mary hated it when he did that.

Instead, Dean filled up a glass with orange juice and handed it to Mary. She took a big gulp until the coughing fit ended. “I would love a cup of coffee.”

“Mom,” Dean said with a sigh.

“Just one. It’ll be fine. It was fine yesterday.”

Dean shook his head. “Orange juice will do you good. Promise.”

Sam walked into the kitchen with a big yawn. “What’s with all the laughing?”

Mary made her way to the coffee machine that was full. She poured herself coffee into a mug and grabbed a couple of Splenda bags before she returned to her seat. “Dean was telling me about his professors. Apparently, they’re very gay.”

Raising his eyebrows, Sam chuckled. “Oh yeah?”

Dean placed the other two plates on the table, and took a seat. “Yup. Very gay. It’s kind of a relief. I was mostly worried about my Religions professor. I figured he’d be just a little homophobic. Guess I lucked out.”

Sam looked at him across the table. His lips pulled into a smile. “That’s good to hear. I knew college would be good for you.”

Dean shrugged, trying not to show his full excitement over his classes. It was too early to celebrate. He still had to survive the semester. “I might need some help, though. I need something called a syllabus, and apparently, it can only be found online. On a black board?”

“Yeah, the profs tend not to print those out anymore. To save paper, and whatnot. I’ll help you.”

“Thanks.”

Mary looked from Sam to Dean, sipping her coffee. “I knew my boys were capable of talking like civilized men.”

“I’m always civilized,” Sam said.

Dean snorted. “Please. You’re as civilized as a sasquatch.”

“Ouch. What an insult. How will I ever recover?”

Dean tossed a strip of bacon to Sam, hitting him on his left eye.

“Aw, fuck. That hurt.”

Mary smiled. “That’s more like it.”

_ _

♦

_ _

The second day of classes was a bit more hectic than the first. With Sam’s help, Dean was able to locate his syllabus, which was apparently crucial to his learning. It was basically a schedule that showed everything he would be doing throughout the semester. Sam also picked up a planner for Dean to better help him keep track of his classes. 

“It’s only two classes,” Dean kept insisting, but Sam assured him this was the way to go.

Dean showed up fifteen minutes early to Feminism, and found that he was the first student there. Charlie was there, reading something on her phone at her desk.

As soon as she spotted him, she set down her phone. 

“Hey there,” Charlie said, grinning friendly. “I’m glad you came back.”

Dean smiled, taking his seat at the same desk from the first day. “Was I not supposed to?”

“It’s kind of rare for guys to join my class. It’s quite a shame because we love and support men here, too.”

“Yeah, I noticed there weren’t a lot of men here, but it’s their loss.”

Charlie laughed. “You’re fun. I’m sure we’ll have a good time this semester.”

“Awesome. I enrolled in classes as a middle-aged man just for the good times.”

“What? You’re kidding, right? You’re  _ not _ middle-aged.”

Dean grinned. He was really digging his professor. “Well, considering my family history, being thirty-seven is a little over middle-aged.”

Charlie waved a hand dismissively. “Thirty-seven is the new seventeen.”

“That’s good to know,” Dean said. “I feel so much better.”

A group of students filed inside, one of them heading straight for Charlie, so Dean knew that was the end of their talk. Dean wondered what the rules were between professors and students being friends because he’d love to take Charlie out for a beer.

Class went by in a blur of diligent note-taking. Learning about First Wave Feminism was interesting, but writing down as many notes as possible proved to be tedious. His hand was cramping by the end of it. He was out of practice. But he was excited to open up his textbook when he got home to keep learning about the subject.

Dean stopped to buy a bag of Cheetos at a vending machine before he went to his next class. The downside of having midday classes was that he missed out on lunch. He was starving. He scarfed them all down outside the classroom, checking the clock to make sure he wasn’t late.

“You can eat in my classroom, you know.”

Dean lowered the bag of Cheetos from his mouth, wiping away at the crumbs left behind. Professor Novak stood in front of him, hair in disarray, a navy hand-knitted sweater making his blue eyes pop out, and a messenger bag hanging over a shoulder. Dean had to admit that his professor was handsome. In the way a completely unattainable celebrity was handsome. He was good eye-candy, but that was it. Still, Dean wished that he hadn’t caught him inhaling those Cheetos.

“I wasn’t sure if I could,” Dean admitted. “Now I know.”

Professor Novak smiled sideways. “You should come inside. Class is about to start.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right in.”

Professor Novak continued staring right at him, almost like he was memorizing Dean’s face, and then he went inside the classroom. Dean stood outside, watching the swinging door he’d just stepped through.

_ _

♦

_ _

Today’s lesson was an introduction to Hinduism. Considering that Dean knew absolutely nothing about the religion, he was fascinated by every word coming out of Professor Novak’s mouth. Just looking at the colorful images of the most famous deities had him wide-eyed. Ganesha was, by far, the coolest thing he’d ever seen. 

He hadn’t realized he’d been grinning until he met Professor Novak’s eyes across the room and a sideways smile appeared on his face. Professor Novak tilted his head, squinting. “Dean, I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but would you like to comment on the deities on the screen?”

Dean sat up, his cheeks flushing. All eyes were on him. “Actually, I think they’re all pretty awesome.” As soon as he spoke, it felt as though he was only speaking to his professor. He shed the thick layer of shyness and just rolled with it. “Vishnu is cool and all, but Ganesha looks badass. I dig the elephant features with the jewelry and the four arms. I never knew there was so much to this religion.”

Professor Novak looked satisfied with Dean’s response, and he paced the room, nodding. “I will have to agree with you on that. Ganesha is also my favorite Hindu deity. He’s quite beautiful in every depiction.” He looked at Dean, holding his gaze from across the room. “I like your enthusiasm, Dean.” 

Dean shrugged. “There’s a lot to be enthusiastic about.”

“Hmm.” Professor Novak switched to the next slide, moving onto the rituals and practices. He didn’t call out on Dean again, even though Dean had a permanent grin on his face. It was hard to remove it once it got there. He’d been having a pretty good day, and Professor Novak was only making it better. Dean wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but his professor kept looking back at him after every slide, as though waiting to see Dean’s reaction to the content. Dean had always known he was very responsive—an open book, as Mary always put it. He’d never had it in him to hide his emotions. So, his awe of the subject was clear as day on his face. 

Apparently, that was the way to Professor Novak’s heart. 

No, not like that, obviously. Dean was definitely not getting any funny ideas. Sure, Professor Novak was attractive. His blue eyes popped out in that blue sweater, and his scruff looked good enough to touch. But Dean was not getting any ideas. Because he was his professor. Dean didn’t care that Professor Novak was into men. Dean wasn’t a man to him, anyway. Just another student.

Dean took a deep breath when he realized he’d been staring at Professor Novak’s lips rather than the slides. Quickly, he moved his gaze to meet his professor’s eyes, and found him already looking at him. Had he noticed Dean staring at his lips? Shit.

Maybe this semester would be harder than Dean thought.


	3. Chapter 3

“No angels could beckon me back,   
and it’s hotter than hell where I’m at.”

-Troye Sivan,  _ Animal _

The first two weeks of college went by in a flash of doctor visits, mornings working at the garage, and afternoons spent reading over his textbooks and notes. The day of Dean’s first quiz in World Religions started off as bad as it could.

Mary woke up at three in the morning, sweating from the pain in her chest. Dean tried his best not to panic, especially when he realized she could hardly breathe. The coughs were leaving her breathless, and they just wouldn’t stop. He turned on her oxygen tank and pressed the mask to her mouth, then he waited for it to help. Mary took a deep breath, filling up her lungs as much as possible. She still winced from the pain, so Dean gave her some morphine as well. 

Dean sat with her on her bed, watching her carefully for any other signs of discomfort. Mary was stubborn enough that she would try to hide it from him, but Dean knew how to read her well enough. This time, she hadn’t even needed to wake him. Dean had woken up at the sound of her shaky gasps and coughs. His bedroom was right next to hers, and they both left their doors open for just this reason. 

“You’re okay,” Dean whispered, stroking her arm. “You’re okay, Mom.”

Mary looked at him with glassy eyes. She was suffering. The reality of it crushed him. It was a sight Dean was all too well accustomed to, and he hated it. She combed his hair with a trembling hand. Dean took her hand in his and squeezed it. Her hand was cold and frail. 

“Do you want me to turn up the thermostat?”

Mary shook her head. 

Dean swallowed. “Do you want another blanket then?”

Mary nodded.

Dean went into the hall closet and pulled out a clean blanket. He helped Mary sit against the headboard and covered her up with an extra blanket. Then he sat on the rocking chair in the corner of her room, and closed his eyes. He wasn’t going back to sleep, but he was tired. He would watch over her. It’s what he always did.

Dean did fall asleep. Shortly. When he opened his eyes again, it was 4:33 a.m. and Mary was sound asleep, the oxygen tank still whirring. Yawning, Dean rubbed his eyes and stood up, stretching his sore muscles. Sleeping on a rocking chair was the most uncomfortable thing he could do at his age. But this hadn’t been the first time he’d done it, and it probably wouldn’t be the last one either.

Unable to go back asleep, Dean went to his room and pulled out his notes from his backpack. He’d made a fuss when Sam handed the bright red thing to him, but Dean had to admit, it made carrying all his stuff much easier. Dean made coffee and sat at the kitchen table, studying all about Hinduism for his quiz. This early in the morning, it was harder to concentrate on the words, but he tried. He’d already studied last night. This was just him being thorough.

As he went over all of the notes from the slides, he couldn’t help but think of Professor Novak. He knew his name now. It was on the syllabus. Castiel Novak. Dean had never heard of such a name, but he sort of liked it. It made sense for his professor to have a name so unique and fitting. Castiel. Dean had spoken the name a few times, testing it out. Castiel. Castiel. Castiel.

“Castiel,” Dean said, tapping his pencil on his notebook. “Hey, Castiel, you have really nice eyes. Can I call you Castiel? Or is that too forward?” Dean snorted into his coffee. He was losing his mind, having pretend conversations with his professor at 5 in the morning.

Dean finished studying around 6 A.M, and then he cleaned the house. He started with the bathrooms, and then moved to the kitchen. He was mopping when Sam walked into the room.

“Don’t move!” Dean snapped, pointing the mop at Sam. “Don’t you fucking move.”

Sam frowned. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m mopping. And you’re stepping all over my wet floor. Go back to your room.”

“But I’m going on a run.”

“Well, you better wait for this floor to dry, or find some way to fly to the door.”

“Dean, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous. Who goes on a run at this time?”

Sam laughed. “Who mops at this time?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Dean continued mopping. “Mom woke up in the middle of the night. Couldn’t breathe.”

“What? Is she okay?”

Dean nodded. “I turned on her oxygen tank. Gave her some morphine. She went back to sleep.”

“Fuck.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. It was getting long.

“Yeah.” Dean stopped mopping. “Her next chemo session is tomorrow, but I don’t know if we should wait that long to take her to the hospital. I think she should see her doctor today.”

Sam looked at him. “Dean, you know there’s nothing they can do for her. The doctor told us very clearly that he didn’t even think the chemo would change anything. That’s why the hospice brought over that oxygen tank.”

Right. The fucking hospice. So helpful with their oxygen tank and morphine and shit. Everything to make Mary comfortable. It made Dean shudder.

“Mom’s not dying,” Dean said, mopping again. “I don’t care what the hospice thinks.”

“The hospice didn’t diagnose Mom with stage four lung cancer, Dean.”

Dean took a deep breath. He didn’t need to hear it. He didn’t need the reminder. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“If you want to go for a run, then go. I’ll mop up your mess.”

“Dean.”

Dean looked at him. “Go, Sam.”

Sam clenched his jaw, staring back at Dean with exasperation. But he did go. And Dean cleaned up after him. That was one thing Dean was good at. Cleaning up people’s messes. He’d done it back when John died and left them all broken. Dean had put them all back together—Mary, Sam, and even himself. But God, he wished he wouldn’t need to do it again.

_ _

♦

_ _

Dean made it to class four minutes late. After Feminism—during which he paid no attention to the lecture—Dean rushed to the restrooms where he had an impromptu breakdown. He’d had those before, but never to this extent. He’d thrown up his entire breakfast, and then knelt beside the toilet and cried. No, more like sobbed. That morning, Dean had left Mary with Sam, but she had still been in pain. Not that she’d complained about it, but Dean had seen her discomfort when she woke up a few hours later. 

Sam had stayed home to watch over her. He’d called in sick at work, something that Dean was completely against. But Sam didn’t listen to Dean. He’d made room for himself on the bed next to Mary, and he’d opened up a book to read to her. Mary was half-asleep, a hand to her chest, and another in a fist at her side. But she seemed to be listening as Sam read from  _ Frankenstein _ . One of Mary’s favorites.

“You’re going to be late for school,” Sam said without looking up from the worn copy of the book. “And you’re distracting me.”

Dean had sighed and left. But nothing had felt right the rest of the day. Dean had felt all too guilty being in class learning about bell hooks and Gloria Steinem when his own mother was suffering at home. She was suffering. That thought was gnawing at Dean. Things had gotten to be too bad. Mary was hurting too much, and Dean couldn’t do anything at all for her. It was awful.

He threw up for a second time after he was all cried out, and then he flushed the toilet and washed his hands. His eyes were red-rimmed and twice their normal size. It was obvious he’d been crying, but he was already late to class and he had a quiz. Shit. He had a quiz.

Dean ran to World Religions, which was only a few halls down, and banged open the door, creating a loud ruckus that had all eyes turning towards him. 

“Eyes on your quiz,” Professor Novak told the class, facing Dean with a tilted head. There was curiosity in his gaze. 

Dean approached him, avoiding eye-contact. He cleared his throat once he was in front of him, keeping his face down. “I’m sorry I’m late. Can I still take the quiz?”

“Of course,” Professor Novak said, easily. And then he handed Dean one of the blank quizzes from the stack.

Dean mumbled a quick thanks and headed to his desk at the back of the room. He had trouble concentrating at first. It was like all he’d learned about Hinduism had completely vanished from his memory. Dean closed his eyes and tried to bring it all back. He’d studied so much for this quiz. He’d read his textbook over and over again. But the thought of Mary struggling to breathe was at the front and center of his mind. That seemed to be the only thought he could conjure up.

When Dean opened his eyes, he looked to the front of the classroom and met Professor Novak’s gaze across the room. It was intimidating at first, but Dean couldn’t look away. There was clear concern on his professor’s face, and it dawned on Dean that it was because of him. Dean blinked, and looked back at his quiz. Hinduism. Right. This was his class, and he had a quiz to finish.

Dean remembered everything. All at once, it all came back to him. That look on Professor Novak had broken the dam and allowed Dean to access the knowledge he had buried beneath the worry for Mary. Dean could push that worry aside for a few minutes. He just had to answer a few questions, turn in the quiz, and leave. 

And that was exactly what he did. As soon as Dean finished, he stood, slung his backpack over his shoulder, walked up to his professor, and handed him the quiz. 

“Thank you,” Professor Novak said, quietly. It looked like he wanted to say something else, but Dean turned and left before he had the chance. 

Dean didn’t care that there was a lesson following the quiz, or that he would miss the introduction to Buddhism and would likely fall behind somewhat. Dean wasn’t in the best headspace for learning. It took all he had just to finish that damned quiz.

_ _

♦

_ _

Dean spent the rest of his day at his shop. These days, he only showed up once or twice a week to supervise and sign paychecks, but once he was there, he regretted staying away. He found Bobby in the breakroom, having lunch with Benny. Dean waved at them as he walked past until he found Ash under the hood of a black Silverado. 

“Hey, you need a hand?” Dean asked.

Ash rolled out and grinned up at him. He had grease stains all over his shirt, hands, and face. And for a second, Dean envied him. “Hey, boss. What brings you here?”

Dean shrugged. He looked over at the big sign that read Winchester’s Auto Services. The family business. Sort of. It had been John’s idea, but Dean was the one who brought it to life. “What’s the problem with this one?”

Ash sat up, wiping his hands on a rag. “It has a short, but I’m waiting for our electrician extraordinaire to show up. Also, the transmission’s failing.”

“What time does Kevin usually come in?”

“Doesn’t really have a set schedule now that school’s back on. You gave him the okay to work part-time, remember?”

Dean hardly did, but it made sense. “Right. Well, you can take your lunch break now if you want. I’ll take over.”

“You sure, boss?”

Dean nodded. “Go ahead. I’m sticking around for a while.”

“If you say so.” Ash stood up. “How’s college life treating you?”

Dean sighed. He wasn’t sure how he’d done on his quiz. He didn’t have the mind to worry about it now, though. “It’s fine. We’ll catch up later, alright?”

Ash smiled. “Sounds good, boss.”

A few hours later, Dean was interrupted by Bobby, who offered Dean a water bottle. 

“No, thanks,” Dean said, going back to work.

“I wasn’t asking,” Bobby said, handing the water bottle to Dean’s greasy hand. “Take a break, son. You need it.”

“I’m fine, Bobby.”

Bobby snorted. He gave Dean a look that said “who do you think you’re fooling?” and Dean had to look away. After a minute of silence, Bobby said, “How’s Mary doing?”

Dean took a big gulp from his water, mostly to keep from answering that question. He looked at the bottle in his hands for a long time. “She’s not doing too well.”

“Your Aunt Ellen told me the same,” Bobby said. “I know this ain’t easy on you, or Sam, or Mary, but you gotta take care of yourself, too. We don’t need you passing out from heat stroke. You’ve been out here in the sun, without a sip of water. That’s a recipe for disaster, son.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” Bobby said. “Idjit.”

Dean rolled his eyes, taking another gulp from his water. Now that he was drinking water, Dean realized how thirsty he was. His shirt was sticking to his back with sweat. “Thanks for the water, Bobby, but I gotta get back to work.”

“No, you don’t. That’s why you got employees.”

“I like working. I wanna keep busy.”

“Don’t you got homework to do?”

Dean sighed. There was a lot of reading for Feminism he had to do. And he should probably read the chapter on Buddhism before next class so he wouldn’t be completely clueless. “I’d rather work on cars than on my homework, to be honest.”

Bobby actually smiled at that. “Yeah, that ain’t gonna cut it. Get the hell out of here. We can fix these cars. No one else is gonna do your school work.”

“How do you always manage to kick the owner out of his own shop?” Dean asked.

“It’s my job as your uncle to boss you around, owner or not.”

Dean smiled. What would he do without Bobby?

_ _

♦

_ _

When Dean got home, he found Sam and Mary on the living room couch watching  _ Mamma Mia! _ Dean had both the movies and soundtracks memorized from all the times Mary had made them see them with her. As much as Dean grumbled about it,  _ Mamma Mia! _ and  _ Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again _ were really good musicals. Not that he would ever admit it out loud.

Without saying a word, Dean took his shoes and jacket off and joined Sam and Mary on the couch, sitting to Mary’s right. She turned to Dean with a soft smile.

Dean smiled back, and then turned his focus on the movie. Meryl Streep was singing.

_ _

♦

_ _

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean looked up and found Professor Novak about to enter his classroom. Dean was sitting outside on the floor, skimming through the chapter on Buddhism that he’d already read. “Hi.”

Professor Novak stepped closer, and then squatted down so he was at eye level with Dean. He pushed up his glasses. “Good job on your first quiz.”

Dean blinked. Every time he had his professor this close, he got a little lost in his blue eyes. “What did I get?”

“You didn’t check on Blackboard?”

Dean shook his head. He hadn’t been aware that he had to go online to see his grades.

“You got a hundred.”

“Oh. Cool.”

Professor Novak smiled sideways. “You don’t sound too thrilled. What were you expecting?”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just surprised I didn’t fail on my first try.”

“I wasn’t surprised at all. You’re a quick learner. I knew it from the first day.”

Dean wasn’t good with compliments. He felt his cheeks getting warm. “Thanks.”

“I meant to tell you not to worry about walking out on Monday. I just gave a quick overview of Buddhism, but nothing too intense. We’ll get to the hardy stuff today.” His smile widened and the corners of his eyes crinkled. Dean tried not to stare too much.

“That makes me feel better. Thanks for letting me know.”

He hesitated. “Are you alright? I couldn’t help but notice that something was wrong on Monday.”

Dean swallowed. He wasn’t going to spill his sob story to his professor right outside of his classroom when he had twenty other students to worry about. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”

Professor Novak nodded. “My office hours are on the syllabus if you ever need to talk to me. I’m available to help with anything.”

Dean wasn’t sure, but that sounded like an open invitation to go spill his guts to his professor. Dean knew he wouldn’t take him up on it. He wasn’t here to befriend his professors. As much as he wanted to take Charlie out for a few beers, and maybe do a few indecent things to Professor Novak, Dean knew those were lines he wouldn’t cross.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asked, right before his professor stood up.

“Anything.”

“What’s the story behind your first name?”

Professor Novak narrowed his eyes. “I suppose my parents liked the name. They named me after an angel. I don’t let my students call me by my first name, unfortunately. Well, on rare occasions, I do make exceptions.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “It’s a good name.”

“Is it?”

“Unique. It suits you.”

“Thank you, Dean. Now quit buttering me up and let’s get to class. We have a fun day ahead of us.”

Professor Novak—no, Dean preferred Castiel—wasn’t lying about the fun day ahead of them. The lecture took up about fifteen minutes, and then he played them a video on YouTube of the Dalai Lama sharing his views on Buddhism being a spiritual guidance through life over being a religion. Dean was instantly fascinated by Buddhism, just as he’d been by Hinduism. For a faithless man, Dean could really appreciate all sorts of religions.

After the video ended, the class had a discussion on the Dalai Lama’s views, and how they were similar or different to their previous concept of Buddhism. Dean ate up their class discussions, only jumping in when he couldn’t keep his thoughts in any longer. Castiel allowed the discussion to stay amongst the students, keeping his own thoughts and opinions out of it. But before class was over, Dean asked him, “What do  _ you _ think?”

Castiel, obviously taken aback by the question, seemed to ponder long and hard before giving an answer. “I think Buddhism can be many different things to those who practice that spiritual lifestyle. But that applies to any religion, or non-religion. Only those who have accepted that lifestyle should have a say in what that belief system is to them. Is Buddhism a religion? It might be for some, but not for others. And that is perfectly alright. There is no right way of interpreting Buddhism, or Hinduism, or Daoism—we’ll get to that one soon. That’s the beauty of it all.”

Dean hadn’t expected that answer, but it was better than anything else he’d ever heard. He didn’t have any words in response that could measure up, so he stayed silent.

And then the class time was over. They had to move on. But Dean was the last to leave, waiting in his seat as he thought over what Castiel had said.

When the only two people remaining in the class were Dean and Castiel, Dean started putting his things into his backpack. 

Castiel waited for Dean at the door. “Come on, Dean. We’ll walk out together.”

Dean walked to the door, and then stopped, looking up at Castiel. God, it was so much better to think of his professor as Castiel. Professor Novak was an authority figure. Castiel was a smart, handsome man. “I’m sure you get this a lot, and I promise I’m not trying to get on your good side for a good grade, or whatever. I just have to say, you’re one of the best teachers I’ve ever had. You’re…I don’t know, but you’re making my college experience worthwhile. Thank you.”

Before Castiel—wide eyed, lips parted—said anything in response, Dean was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

“In the darkest night hour,   
I’ll search through the crowd.   
Your face is all that I see.”

-Beyonce,  _ Xo _

The next time Dean went to his World Religions class, he thought that Castiel might have been ignoring him. Although, Dean was half convinced that maybe it was all in his head. It made no sense, of course. Castiel had no reason to ignore Dean. It wasn’t like Castiel had spent the last five days repeating what Dean had told him before leaving his class, even though that was exactly what Dean had done.

Dean had never had a professor that he looked up to. This was his first college experience, after all. Maybe he shouldn’t have opened up to Castiel. Maybe Dean had broken some sacred college rule that he hadn’t been aware of.

Despite the cold shoulder Dean was receiving from Castiel, Dean participated in the class discussion. He didn’t just share the things he’d learned from reading, and rereading the textbook, but from the extra research he’d done on the subject. The belief in Nirvana was what Dean was stuck on. Nirvana was the end of the cycle of suffering. And it sounded glorious. Just like the band.

“I just think that Nirvana sounds awesome,” Dean said. “Sure, it sounds hard getting there. A lot of rebirthing and shit—sorry. I still think the whole thing is a cool concept. I would love to experience that. Total and complete enlightenment. No suffering. It sounds like heaven.”

“Nirvana is a mental state, not a heaven,” Jack, one of the students chimed in. Dean had talked to the guy a few times. He was a good guy, but he loved to point out anything incorrectly said during discussions. 

“Yeah, I just meant, to me it sounds like what I had always envisioned heaven to be,” Dean said.

“And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that,” Castiel said.

Dean was surprised that Castiel had backed Dean up, after avoiding him the entire period. Dean looked at him, and Castiel smiled sideways. 

“I think we’ve had a productive day today,” Castiel told the class. He checked his watch. “As a reward, I will dismiss you fifteen minutes early. Get the hell out of here.”

“That’s not a very Buddhist saying,” Jack called out before leaving.

Castiel rolled his eyes, packing up his things. 

Dean stalled at his desk while all the other students filed out. A few of them stopped to speak to Castiel for a while, but then they were all gone. Again, Dean and Castiel were alone in the classroom, and Dean felt a certain tension between them. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but it ignited something within Dean. A feeling he didn’t try to fight.

“Dean,” Castiel said, still behind the desk. 

“Yeah?” Dean said, making his way there. He hoped that Castiel wouldn’t chastise him for making inappropriate comments to him. Dean was ready to apologize if necessary, but he really didn’t want to.

Castiel smiled, a wide, bright thing that lit up his face. Their eyes met only a short second before Castiel looked down, his ears going red. Dean couldn’t believe that his professor was blushing in front of him. It was a beautiful sight. “I was hoping you’d give me a chance to address what you said to me last Wednesday.” Castiel’s gaze locked on Dean’s, the intensity was almost too much to bear. “I want you to know that having you in my class has been a pleasure. I’m glad that whatever role I’ve played in your education has been to your benefit. I want the best for you. And all of my students, of course.”

Dean nodded, swallowing the thickness in his throat. “I was worried you were going to yell at me for being inappropriate.”

Castiel blinked, taken aback. “You weren’t being inappropriate, Dean.”

“Okay, good. Cause I might spill out my heart for you every now and then. Maybe serenade you a few times. So, just a heads up.”

Castiel burst into laughter. “I’ll be waiting for that. Thank you for the warning.”

Dean grinned, resisting the sudden urge to wrap Castiel up in his arms. He knew  _ that _ would be inappropriate, so he knew he had to get out of there. “I should get going.”

“So should I.” Castiel opened the door and held it for Dean. “Have a nice day, Dean. Aim for Nirvana.”

Dean did a double take at that. His heart was racing, like it thought something incredible was about to happen. Dean wished he could make it understand that he was just standing a bit too close to his professor after he’d said the right thing. “I will.” Dean sounded breathless. “Thanks.”

_ _

♦

_ _

Dean’s midterms came faster than expected. There was a lot of studying to do, so Dean hardly spent any time at his shop. Sam, Ellen, and Bobby had been lending an extra helping hand by taking care of all things Mary. Dean had spent all his time in his room, cramming for the midterms. He wanted to ace them. These were his first two college classes. Dean felt like he needed to do well on them to set a good precedence. 

It was Sunday night, and Dean was sitting on his bedroom floor, back against his bed, textbook propped up on his knees as he went over Simone de Beauvoir’s complex writings. 

_ Tonight, I’m gonna have myself a real good time. I feel ali-ah-ah-ive. And the world, I’ll turn it inside out… _

Dean beat his pen against the textbook, singing to himself, “Two hundred degrees, that’s why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit.” 

It was unusual for Mary to play her Queen records this late at night. That was more of her midday routine.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Mary stood there, grinning ear to ear. There was a little more color to her cheeks, and Dean smiled in return. “Come take a break with me, Dean.”

“I have a lot to study, Mom,” Dean said.

“You’ve been studying all week. You need a break, sweetheart.”

Dean took a deep breath. A break wouldn’t hurt. As soon as he stretched his legs, he realized how tired he was. He’d been sitting in the same position for at least four hours. 

Mary led Dean to the kitchen. Just as  _ Crazy Little Thing Called Love _ started playing, Sam walked in, and there was a glint in his eyes. Sam was excited.

_ I gotta be cool, relax, get hip and get on my tracks _ . _ Take a back seat, hitch-hike, and take a long ride on my motorbike. _

“I love this song,” Mary said, swaying slowly as she rummaged through the pantry. She pulled out flour, cinnamon, sugar, nutmeg, lemons, and a lot of apples. “Grab a knife, both of you. I need you to thinly slice and peel these apples.”

“What are we doing?” Dean asked, taking the knife Sam handed him. 

“Mom’s teaching us how to make apple pie,” Sam said, almost beaming. 

Dean raised his eyebrows, sitting at the table beside Sam. “Really? How come?”

“I won’t be here forever,” Mary said. “I need to make sure my boys can make themselves a nice apple pie when I’m no longer here to make it for them.”

“Mom, don’t say that,” Dean said. “You’ll be here for a long time still.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, focusing intently on his task with the apples.

“Let me teach you, anyway,” Mary said.

And so, the three of them worked diligently, making three delicious apple pies. Mary’s pie looked better than Dean’s and Sam’s, but they all tasted great. The recipe wasn’t too complicated, but Dean made sure to write it down exactly how Mary recited it. He even wrote the last step when she said, “Make sure you make it with love, boys.”

They ate their pies with vanilla ice cream and it was delicious. Dean had to admit that Sam’s pie was closer in taste to Mary’s, so Dean took another slice from it.

“You liked mine, didn’t you?” Sam asked.

“It was fine,” Dean said, swallowing a big bite of it.

“I’m a better baker than you,” Sam said, smirking. “I guess I just have the touch.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled, but he couldn’t hide his smile.

_ _

♦

_ _

The midterms came and went, and Dean waited for his grades to be posted online for days. To calm down his nerves, he worked at his shop. He spent hours under the hood of a beautiful red Mustang. When he finished with it, he wiped his greasy hands on a rag, but he knew there was grease all over his face too. He needed a shower. 

Dean stood, his knees creaking. Thirty-seven suddenly felt like fifty. The joys of aging. 

After finishing his water, Dean headed inside to let Bobby know the Mustang was done so he could call up the owner. But once he reached the lobby, he stood frozen in front of Castiel, who was on a chair, flipping through a magazine. He looked casual in ripped jeans, a light blue Polo, and black Converse.

“Professor Novak?” Dean asked, pulling at the hem of his shirt, suddenly self-conscious. He knew he was covered in grease from head to toe.

When Castiel looked up, he released a sudden gasp. It was probably from the shock of running into one of his students in public. Castiel’s gaze traveled the length of Dean’s body, and he swallowed once he reached Dean’s eyes again. He adjusted his glasses. “Hello, Dean. Do you work here?”

Dean cleared his throat. “Sort of. I’m the owner.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, and he smiled sideways. “That’s impressive. You’re young, intelligent, and successful. Not bad for a future philosopher.”

Dean chuckled. Castiel thought he was young, intelligent, and successful? Dean didn’t think he could stop blushing. “I don’t think many people would consider thirty-seven young.”

“I do. I’m thirty-eight, and I feel younger every day.” Castiel put away his magazine. “Seriously, Dean, I’m truly impressed by you.”

Dean shrugged. Those damned compliments. They kept throwing them at each other, like some weird game of tag. Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “What brings you here, anyway? You have a car that needs fixing?”

Castiel nodded, standing up. “I’m afraid I do.” He rocked on the back of his heels. “It’s a blue Honda Civic. Check engine light turned on, and then I was stranded on my way to the farmer’s market. So, here I am.”

“I’ll go take a look at it.”

“I’ll wait here then.” Castiel smiled again.

Dean found Bobby, who was already checking out Castiel’s Honda. “You mind if I take over?”

Bobby snorted. “Be my guest. I was meant to take my lunch break, anyway.”

“The red Mustang is done, by the way.”

Bobby grunted. “I’ll give ‘em a call.”

Dean considered telling Bobby that the Honda belonged to his college professor, and that Dean wasn’t sure how to feel about this. But Bobby was gone before he could get the words out. Dean checked everything under the hood, and once he had a diagnosis, he took it to Castiel. “The catalytic converter needs replacing. I’ll put an order in for the part. It should take one business day to arrive, but since it’s Saturday, it won’t be here until Monday.”

Castiel sighed. “Well, that’s a bummer. I guess I won’t be visiting the farmer’s market after all. Thank you, Dean. I’ll call a Lyft to get home.”

“I could give you a ride,” Dean said, before thinking about what he was saying. 

Castiel looked as surprised by Dean’s offer as Dean felt offering it. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

It wasn’t a no. Dean gained up some courage. “I was about to head home and shower, but I can take you to the farmer’s market. My brother Sam loves it there. I wouldn’t mind going with you. And then I could take you home.” Dear God, Dean couldn’t shut up even if he wanted to. “But if you think it would be weird, we don’t have to. Don’t say yes on my account.”

A slow grin spread on Castiel’s face. He looked like he was seriously debating the pros and cons of accepting a ride from a student. But he didn’t deliberate on his answer too long. “That sounds great. I’ll take you up on it.”

“Awesome,” Dean said. “I’ll just grab my things and we can go.”

Since Dean couldn’t go home for his shower, he washed his hands three times and changed into a clean shirt he had in his office. He added some gel to his hair, hoping it didn’t look too bad, and then he led Castiel to his Impala.

“This is your car?” Castiel asked, staring at it with true admiration. “It’s an Impala, right?”

“It’s a ’67,” Dean said, nodding. “It was my dad’s.”

“It’s a beautiful car,” Castiel said, running a hand over the hood, with tender affection. It made Dean’s stomach do a backflip.

This would be a long day.

_ _

♦

_ _

Having Dean’s professor in his car was both exciting and terrifying. Dean wasn’t sure how to act around him. Should Dean put up a professional front and treat Castiel like an authority figure? Should Dean just be himself and treat Castiel like a future friend? Was that where they were headed? Dean couldn’t be sure.

But then, Dean turned on the car and Queen blasted on the stereo. _ All we hear is Radio ga ga, Radio goo goo, Radio ga, ga. _

Castiel laughed. “Are you a Queen fan?”

Dean lowered the music so it wasn’t difficult to speak over it. “My mom is the biggest Queen fan. I wasn’t for the longest time, but they’ve grown on me.”

Castiel sang along to the song while Dean pulled out into the street. “Queen is fantastic. I’ve been on a ‘60s music kick. The Beatles, the Foundations, Buffalo Springfield, Four Tops, the Supremes. I can’t get enough of them.”

Dean looked at him for a second. “I didn’t peg you for a fan of ‘60s music.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love music from all decades. I’m just on a ‘60s kick at the moment. Eventually it’ll pass.”

The next song came on.  _ Somebody to Love _ . Castiel got this funny look on his face, like the song had resurrected good memories. And he sang along to it, without any shyness or hesitation. “ _ Can anybody find me somebody to love? I got no rhythm. I just keep losing my beat. _ ”

And then, just because he could, Dean sang, too.

“ _ I need somebody to love. I need somebody to love. I need somebody to love _ .”

When the song was over, and they were at a red light, Dean and Castiel looked at each other, with mirroring smiles of two people who had just sung a song with a lot of feeling. 

“You know, Dean, I haven’t made many friends since I came back from London,” Castiel said. Dean thought he could hear coyness in his voice. “I know it might be strange for you to hear this, but I consider you my friend. I hope that’s alright.”

Dean felt his heart stop, and for a second, he was sure he was having a heart attack. But then his heart was beating again, faster than usual. The light turned green, and Dean hit the gas. He hadn’t said anything in response. He should. The silence was thickening. “Of course it’s alright.”

“Good,” Castiel said.

_ _

♦

_ _

The farmer’s market wasn’t at all how Dean had imagined it. For one, it was full of delicious smelling food. Dean had troubling picking one thing to eat, but he finally settled on street tacos. He paired that with a fresh lemonade, which was the perfect blend of bitter and sweet. 

Castiel bought an entire chocolate and peanut butter cake, which looked amazing. They walked around with it all day. And when Dean dropped Castiel off at his house, Castiel hesitated before getting out of the car. “Would you like to come in and have some cake? It’s too big for me to eat alone.”

Dean bit his lip, considering. If Castiel was just his professor, he shouldn’t accept the invitation. But they had both agreed to be friends, so this wasn’t a big leap for them to make. “Sure. Let’s have some cake.”

Castiel looked delighted by this. 

The house was a white Spanish-style home. It had a red brick roof, wide windows, a bird fountain in the front yard, and potted plants that led all the way to the front porch. The inside was spacious and homey. The subtle scent of cinnamon filled the living room which only had one long gray couch, a coffee table with a few books, and a plasma TV. But they walked straight to the kitchen, where Castiel deposited the cake on the kitchen island. 

“Make yourself at home,” Castiel said, grabbing a couple of plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake. 

Dean pulled up a chair and sat down while Castiel served him a slice. The chocolate had melted, but just slightly. The cake still looked delicious.

Castiel sat across from Dean at the small kitchen island, and they both dug into the cake. Castiel hummed in delight. “It’s better than I imagined.”

“Nirvana?” Dean asked, smiling.

“Oh, yes,” Castiel said. “Nirvana, indeed.”

“I shouldn’t have brought that up,” Dean said. “Now I’m back to worrying over my midterm grade.”

Castiel chuckled. “Why should you worry? Have you not checked Blackboard yet?”

Dean dropped his fork. “Were the grades posted?”

“Late last night,” Castiel said. “I hate to ruin the suspense, but you got an A.”

Dean gaped. He knew he should close his mouth, and he did eventually. “Are you serious?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Oh, thank God,” Dean breathed. He got an A. He’d gotten nothing but A’s on his quizzes, and now he had an A on his midterm. Dean was doing so well. Much better than he’d ever expected.

“You shouldn’t be so shocked, Dean. You’re incredibly smart.” There was so much sincerity in Castiel’s voice that Dean didn’t know how to react.

So Dean kept eating his cake. When he was done eating, he looked at Castiel. “When I decided to enroll in college, I was scared. I struggled to graduate from high school, and when I did, I knew that I would never go to college. I was eighteen and my dad had just died. I had to work to help my mom with the bills, and then to help put my baby brother through college. I worked hard for both of them. And then one day, I had enough to open up my own shop. I did as much research as I could about it since I didn’t have any business studies. But it all worked out in the end. And now I’m in college because I want to learn. That’s it. I don’t care about what degree I get. I just want to learn about things that matter to me. Like feminism and religion.”

Castiel hadn’t looked away from him. “I respect your determination and will to move forward and do great things. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as hardworking as you. It’s humbling.”

Dean looked away. “I’m not that great, Cas.”

Silence.

Dean quickly realized his mistake. He’d called his professor Cas. Dean didn’t even know if it was okay to call him Castiel, but now he’d added a nickname to the mess. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that.”

Castiel swallowed his cake. “Don’t apologize. I like it.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked.

Castiel gave him one of his sideways smiles. “Absolutely.”

Dean wasn’t sure what was better, the taste of the chocolate cake, or the taste of Castiel’s name in his mouth.

_ _

♦

_ _

Spending an afternoon with his professor was far from the things Dean thought he’d ever do. It had been a pleasant day, though. Being with Castiel was easy. For a moment, Dean had forgotten all about his worries at home. A pang of guilt twisted inside him when he realized he’d completely forgotten to check on Mary’s wellbeing. When he wasn’t home for more than a few hours, he’d always text Sam or Ellen to make sure everything was okay. But Dean hadn’t been home all day, and he hadn’t bothered once to check on the state of his mom. 

It was dangerous to get this comfortable with another person, especially his professor. 

With a guilty conscience, Dean stopped by Mary’s favorite Chinese restaurant to pick up some orange chicken and fried rice. That was what they all did lately. Surround Mary with all of her favorite things. Somehow, it made them all feel a little bit better about the overall situation.

There was a loud ruckus inside the house as soon as Dean stepped inside. And then he saw the source of the noise. Of course. It had to be Jo.

“Where have you been all day, young man?” Jo said, up on her feet, hands on her hips. “I’ve been here waiting for you.”

“Lost track of time,” Dean said, smiling at the sight of his favorite cousin. He’d really missed Jo. It had been days since he’d last seen her. “I brought food, though.”

Jo took the food from him. “I guess that’ll do for now.” She grinned and Dean hugged her.

“Missed you, kid,” Dean said.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go set the table.”

“What’d you bring?” Sam asked from the recliner in the living room.

“Chinese,” Dean said. “Where’s Mom?”

Sam frowned. “In bed. She hasn’t been feeling well today.”

“Has she eaten anything?”

“She can’t keep anything down,” Sam said. “I made her a cup of coffee earlier, but she didn’t even finish that.”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. This was cause for concern. Mary never went this long without eating. “Maybe she’ll eat some chicken.”

“I doubt it, Dean.”

Dean let out a deep breath as he went into the kitchen, where Jo was busy filling up three glasses with iced tea. “No tea for me. I need a beer.”

“No, sir, you don’t,” Jo said. “Come on, I made this tea myself. You gotta at least try it.”

Deal rolled his eyes, taking one of the glasses and tasting the tea. It was sweet, but not overly sweet. Refreshing. “Not bad. Now, where’s my beer?”

“Don’t you turn into a drunk,” Jo said, shaking her head as she grabbed a beer from the fridge and handed it over. “I’m a bartender, so I can spot them from miles away.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean sipped his beer and felt infinitely better. Dean could spot drunks in a crowd too. He’d grown up with one. And he sure as hell wasn’t planning on turning into one himself.

Sam joined them at the kitchen table. “Did you bring egg rolls?”

Dean smiled. Sam loved his egg rolls. “Yep. You guys go ahead and get started without me. I’m gonna go check on Mom real quick.”

“Dean, let her sleep,” Sam said.

“I just need to see her. I won’t bother her too long.”

Sam and Jo exchanged a glance as if they had previously had a private discussion about Dean that he was not aware of. But he didn’t have time to dwell on that now. He needed to see Mary.

_ _

♦

_ _

The bedroom was enveloped in darkness, except for the light creeping in from the hallway through the open door. Dean walked in slowly, trying to make out the shape of Mary curled up on the bed.

“It’s creepy to watch people sleep,” Mary said, voice soft and frail. Dean wasn’t sure if it was because she was tired or because she was  _ tired _ .

“Sorry,” Dean said, sitting on the edge of her bed. The bed creaked with his weight. “Did I wake you up?”

“I’ve been awake for a few minutes. I can’t stay asleep for long, as much as I’d like to. The pain likes to keep me awake.”

Dean winced. “Did Sam give you morphine today?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t do much for me anymore.”

“We’ll call the doctor. Maybe they can prescribe you something stronger.”

“Something stronger than morphine? Sweetheart, that’s called death.”

Dean felt his heart sink down to the pit of his stomach. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d heard Mary talk like this, wishing for death to come and alleviate her pain. But he’d always brushed it aside. Something told him that Mary didn’t deserve for that conversation to be brushed aside anymore. “Do you ever think about it? Dying, I mean.”

Mary hummed. “Every second. It’s my one constant thought. It feels like I’m just…waiting. I’m not living anymore. I’m only waiting.”

Dean’s knee jerk reaction was to tell Mary to stop talking like that, to not think about death because it would only bring her down. But Dean didn’t really know how she felt about the topic. They’d never talked about it before. And Dean was suddenly curious. “Are you afraid of death, Mom?” He was glad he couldn’t look at her when he asked this question. He didn’t know if he was prepared to see her reaction.

“I was, at first.” Mary inhaled a shaky, wheezy breath, which led to some coughing. Once recovered, she said, “I’m not afraid now.”

Dean didn’t want to think too deeply about what that meant. “Did I ever tell you about my World Religions class? I have a really cool professor with the weirdest name: Castiel Novak. And he has taught me so much about religions. Buddhists have this belief in reincarnation. They don’t have any gods or deities. And they don’t really focus on an afterlife. They have this belief that when you’ve reincarnated enough, you can reach enlightenment. And you can end the cycle of suffering when you’ve reached Nirvana. I’ve been thinking a lot about that. Nirvana. It sounds awesome.”

“Nirvana does sound awesome, sweetheart.” She placed her cold hand over his hand, and held it firmly. “But I’m waiting for heaven, whatever that might be for me.”

Dean nodded, though he knew she couldn’t see him. “Is that what you believe in? Heaven?”

“I do. I believe in God, and I believe that when I die, I’ll get to rest for eternity. Somewhere nice. Somewhere peaceful. My own personal Nirvana.”

Dean could still hear that guy from class saying that Nirvana wasn’t heaven, it was a state of mind. But he understood what Mary was saying. She wasn’t afraid of death because she didn’t believe that would be the end. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Dean. You and your brother are my life.” There was more strength in her voice when she spoke this time. She squeezed his hand. “That’s not gonna change, even when I’m no longer alive.”

It took all his willpower not to cry. God, he really wanted to. But he knew he had to be strong for Mary. So he swallowed his tears and kissed his mother’s cheek.


	5. Chapter 5

“Feelings, they come and they go, that they do.  
Feelings, they come and they go, not with you.”

-Lauv, _ Paris in the Rain _

Maybe it was ironic, but Dean had found Confucianism to be confusing. Alright, so maybe that joke wasn’t funny. It hadn’t been well-received when he’d said it to smarty-pants Jack. He was glad when they’d moved on to Islam, and then Judaism. There was so much he didn’t know about those religions, but he was eager to learn all about them. Growing up Christian made it a little easier for Dean to follow some parts of the religions. It was fascinating how much Islam had in common with Christianity, but so many people condemned that religion, calling it evil without even knowing much about it. Judaism was fun because of how many traditions it had.

Dean had checked his syllabus the night before class to check Castiel’s office hours, which were right after class. He had debated all day long whether or not to make the bold move he’d been planning. In the end, his hunger won the debate. Right after class, Dean nearly ran out, barely remembering to utter a quick “See ya” to Castiel. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw disappointment in his professor’s face at the short goodbye. 

After picking up a couple of burgers and fries from his favorite diner, Joey’s, Dean headed to Castiel’s office. It was in the philosophy department, hidden at the end of a cluster of offices. Castiel’s door was open, and though he couldn’t see him, he could hear music. The song sounded familiar, but Dean didn’t know 60’s music enough to know the title.

_ I need you more than anyone, darling. You know that I have from the start. So build me up buttercup, don’t break my heart. _

As Dean got closer, he could hear Castiel’s faint voice singing along. It instantly brought out a smile in Dean. He cleared his throat and knocked on the open door, lingering there. 

Castiel looked up from his computer, grinning widely when he saw that it was Dean. “Hello, Dean. I thought you’d left. You looked like you were in a hurry.”

“I brought lunch,” Dean said, lifting up the bags of takeout.

Castiel gaped, like it was the last thing he’d been expecting. And Dean had a moment of panic because he wasn’t sure if they were the type of friends to eat lunch together. Maybe their day at the farmer’s market was a one-time thing. But then Castiel closed his laptop and pushed his papers aside. “That smells delicious. I’m starving. Thank you for this, Dean. You’ve made my day.”

Dean let out a sigh of relief and went to sit on a chair across Castiel’s desk. His office was small, but it could fit a comfortable-looking purple couch and a big bookshelf that was overly packed. There were more stacks of books on the floor next to it, because you could only overpack a bookshelf so much. Dean handed one of the bags to Castiel. “It’s a bacon cheeseburger and fries. The fries are the best part. They use some kind of magical seasoning created by the gods.”

Castiel laughed. “That sounds perfect.”

“Also, I came bearing good news,” Dean said. “Your car is done.”

Castiel’s bright blue eyes widened, and Dean got a little lost in them. Castiel pushed up his glasses. “Really? Dean, first you bring me lunch, and then you tell me my car is fixed. From now on, every time I look at you, I will think of only positive things.”

“Did you ever think of negative things while looking at me?”

“Only when you said you were a Kerouac fan.” Castiel was smiling sideways, and Dean looked at his lips before looking down at his burger. It was so hard to look at Castiel sometimes. Dean knew it wouldn’t be right to stare at his professor’s face for too long, but that was what he wanted to do whenever he had him in front of him.

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nope.” Castiel dug into his burger, and he let out the filthiest moan Dean had ever heard. “Oh wow. I was not expecting that. This tastes amazing.”

“Wait until you try the fries.”

And then Castiel ate a fry, and he licked his lips right after, agreeing with Dean about the magical taste. Dean couldn’t help looking at the movement of his tongue slipping out to catch the bits of flavor left on his lips. It was an intoxicating sight. Castiel was downright beautiful. Dean shifted on his seat, feeling a bit uncomfortable in his pants. Shit. Shit. Shit. He was crushing on his professor. And crushing hard.

Castiel ate another fry, completely oblivious to the torture Dean was currently experiencing. Of course he was. Castiel wasn’t lusting after someone he couldn’t have. Dean should have seen this coming. He’d ignored all the signs. I mean, he brought the guy lunch. Dean never did that for people other than his family. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Castiel asked. “Your food will get cold.”

“Right,” Dean said, unwrapping his burger. “I got distracted.”

Castiel put his burger back on the wrapper. He bit his lower lip as he looked Dean in the eye, his gaze intense. It was hard to look away, as much as Dean wanted to. Castiel made him nervous. In the best way possible. “Tell me about you.”

“About me?” Dean asked. He was having trouble making sense of words. “What do you want to know?”

Castiel shrugged, chewing on a fry. “Are you…married?”

Dean blushed, and he wasn’t sure why. It was kind of an odd question coming from his professor. Although, Castiel had said they were friends, so maybe it wasn’t so odd. Dean couldn’t possibly imagine Castiel had asked because he was interested in Dean. That would be crazy. Right? “Not married. Not engaged. I don’t even have a partner.”

Castiel tilted his head. “Should I take the use of the gender-neutral ‘partner’ to mean something?”

Dean smiled. “I like using partner instead of girlfriend and boyfriend, yeah. I’m bi.”

Castiel ate another fry, seemingly unfazed by this information. “I like it. So, tell me, what do you do when you’re not being a business owner or a student?”

Dean wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk about Mary. If Dean brought her up, then he’d have to talk about everything. And that wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have right now. “I usually hang out with my brother, Sam. He’s a lawyer. Smartest guy I’ve ever known. We like to go to this bar downtown called the Roadhouse. My aunt owns the business, so I get a pretty good discount on beer.”

“Are you kidding? I love that place. It’s one of my favorite not-gay bars.”

Dean laughed. “I’ve never been to a gay bar before.”

Castiel licked his lips after eating another fry. “You live in Austin, you’re bi, and you’ve never been to a gay bar? I don’t understand. We must remedy this immediately.”

Dean wasn’t sure he heard correctly. “Are you inviting me to a gay bar?”

“I’m afraid so.” Castiel licked his lips again, and it was driving Dean crazy. Why did he insist on torturing Dean? What had Dean done to deserve this?

Dean bounced his leg, a nervous tic he’d never learned to get rid of. “Alright. I’m down to go to a gay bar.”

“Great. We’ll go this weekend.” Then Castiel seemed to remember something. “I’ll invite Charlie.”

“Charlie Bradbury?”

“That’s the one.” Castiel smiled. “We realized a while back you were in both of our classes.”

“She’s my second favorite professor.”

Castiel’s smile widened. “You really like to butter me up, don’t you?”

“How else am I gonna get an A?”

Castiel laughed. “As if you really need to bribe me. You’re the smartest student in all of my classes.”

Dean blushed again. He looked at his half-eaten burger and his bouncing leg. He’d never thought of himself as smart. Sam was the smart one between them. That was how it had always been. Dean had never considered that he would be any good in college. He’d decided to try it without any real expectations. But Castiel believed in his intelligence. He thought Dean was smart. And that meant the world to Dean. 

♦

After lunch, Dean drove Castiel to the shop to pick up his car. When Dean told Castiel he only had to pay for the part they ordered because Dean was waiving the service fee, Castiel protested. A lot.

“No, Dean, this is your business. You can’t give freebies to people. I want to contribute to the growth of your business.”

“But we’re friends, and I personally replaced the part in your car, and I don’t want to charge you for that.”

“Well, as your friend, I think it’s important to let me pay you for your hard work. You pay a hell of a lot of tuition for what I’m teaching you. This is the same.”

Dean sighed. “Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why are _ you _?” Castiel asked, narrowing his eyes. But he seemed to realize that Dean would not relent. Dean loved fixing cars, and he wanted to do something nice for Castiel. Not because he had a huge crush on him, but because he had taught Dean amazing things these past few months. Somehow, Dean felt indebted to him. “Alright. I’ll let you waive the service fee. But only if you let me repay you in another way.”

Dean lost his breath, like he’d been punched. The implications of what Castiel had said led Dean to think of only indecent things. Dean looked at Castiel’s lips, wondering what it would feel like to press their lips together. Wondering how Castiel would react if Dean threw himself at him, pressed his body entirely against his, and held him by the hips. 

Then, Castiel cleared his throat, interrupting Dean’s train of thought. He was smiling sideways, and Dean met his eyes. Dean knew he’d been caught staring at Castiel’s lips, and he flushed, feeling the sudden heat in his cheeks. “You okay there?”

Dean nodded, trying to suppress his feelings. He hoped that the more time he spent with Castiel, the easier he would be able to control them. Although, it could just make it harder. Knowing Dean, it would most likely be the latter. “Yeah, I was just thinking about…never mind. What did you have in mind?”

“I’d like to take you to dinner Friday night,” Castiel said, as if he was having a conversation about the weather. Like it was the most casual thing to ask one of his students to dinner. Did Castiel usually ask his students out to dinner? Dean shouldn’t assume he was the one special student that got all the attention just because he was also his professor’s mechanic. 

“Dinner?”

“Yes, dinner. Somewhere nice. Maybe we can dress up for the occasion. Do you like Italian?”

Dean swallowed. That sounded a lot like a date. But that couldn’t be true. Castiel was Dean’s professor. He wouldn’t ask Dean out on a date without Dean knowing it was a date. No, Castiel wouldn’t ask Dean out on a date at all. That was out of the question. “Yeah, I like Italian. Are you inviting Charlie to dinner too?” Dean had to ask since Castiel was bringing Charlie along to their gay bar outing.

“Of course not,” Castiel said, almost offended that Dean had even asked. “This is just for you.”

“Okay,” Dean said, as if his heart wasn’t racing, as if he hadn’t just allowed for things to get more complicated.

♦

On Wednesday, Dean was distracted from studying when Mary put on Queen on the record player. Again. Usually, when this happened, Dean would try to tune out the music, but it was hard to do when he heard Mary singing. Sometime ago, Mary had stopped singing. She said it only hurt her lungs. But today, she was singing in the clearest voice.

Dean stepped out of his room and entered the kitchen to find Mary singing along to _ Killer Queen _. She was standing at the stove, making a grilled cheese sandwich.

“Mom, what are you doing?”

“I’m making a snack. I was hungry.” She had a hand on her hip and the other holding up a spatula to flip over the grilled cheese.

“Where’s Sam?”

“He called earlier to let me know he’d be working late tonight. Don’t you worry. I feel good today.”

“You were singing.”

Mary smiled, flipping the grilled cheese. It sizzled. “I know. I was watching the new _ Mamma Mia!, _ and then during one of the songs, I started singing and nothing hurt. So, I turned off the movie, put on Queen, and decided to make a grilled cheese sandwich. Would you like one?”

Dean chuckled, a bit nervously. “So, you just started feeling well while watching _ Mamma Mia _?”

“_ Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again _,” she corrected. “But yes. That’s right.” She turned to him, the smile lighting up her face. “You want a grilled cheese too or not? Cause I need to get out more bread if you do.”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll take one. Are you sure you don’t need any help? I can make it.”

Mary batted Dean’s hand away as soon as he extended it. “Don’t you dare. It’s rare when I feel this good. I don’t want to waste it. Who knows how long it’ll last?”

That much was true. Mary had good days, but she also had awful ones. The good days seemed to come less often now, but this? This was great. Dean couldn’t stop smiling. 

Dean grabbed two Cokes from the fridge and once the grilled cheese sandwiches were ready, they went out to the front porch. Fall was turning into winter, but they still had a few cool days that were nice and breezy. It was a bit chilly outside today, so they grabbed two blankets to drape over their legs while they sat on the porch swing and ate. They left the door open so they could listen to the music blasting inside.

The grilled cheese was just like Dean remembered from his childhood. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one, but it reminded him of those easy days when he had few worries. The sun was setting, and the sky was full of purples and reds and oranges. It was beautiful. Dean had forgotten how nice it was to look at sunsets. Beside him, Mary sighed, like she’d forgotten too.

They didn’t speak while they ate. The music filled the silence. 

It was a good day.

♦

Sam stared at Dean when he stepped out of his room. Alright, so Dean never took this long getting ready. And maybe he’d overdone it with the black blazer and button-up green shirt, but Castiel had told him to dress up. He didn’t want to stand out in whatever restaurant they were going to.

“So, explain to me why you’re dressed like you’re going to prom?”

Dean rolled his eyes, standing in front of the hallway mirror to fix his hair. “My professor wants to take me to dinner to pay me for fixing his car. It’s not a big deal. He’s picking me up soon.”

Sam choked on the bite he’d taken of his Frosted Flakes. He coughed, and when he recovered, he said, “Are you seriously going on a date with your professor? Dean, come on, if you wanted to find a date, you didn’t have to enroll in college for that. You could have just downloaded a dating app.”

“It’s not a date, Sammy. It’s just a friendly thing. We’re friends.”

“My professors never invited me to dinner.”

“Well, that’s cause you’re annoying as hell.” Dean smirked at Sam, and then went back to fixing his hair.

“Okay, but be honest with me. Are you into your professor? Like, do you _ want _ this to be a date?”

_ Dammit _. Dean had never been able to lie to Sam. But he really didn’t want to talk about this. “It doesn’t matter what I want. It’s just a friendly thing.”

“Yeah, you said that already.” Sam took another spoonful of cereal. 

There was a honk outside, and Dean went to grab his wallet and keys from his room.

“You’re not inviting your date inside?” Sam asked, grinning from ear to ear. He tried to look outside the window, but Dean shoved him aside. “Hey, watch it, jerk.”

“Take care of Mom,” Dean said at the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Say hi to your professor for me!” Sam said.

As soon as Dean climbed into Castiel’s Honda, he got a whiff of his cologne. It was subtle, but it smelled great. So much that Dean wanted to lean in closer. Castiel smiled sideways, his eyes running down the length of Dean’s body. It made Dean instantly nervous. He hoped he wasn’t underdressed in his dark jeans.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find a suit, or whatever,” Dean said, noting that Castiel was wearing gray slacks with a gray waistcoat over a white shirt. And those blue-frame glasses completed the look. Castiel looked elegant and handsome and he smelled so good. It was overwhelming.

“No, no, you look wonderful.” Castiel looked at Dean’s house, and narrowed his eyes. “I think someone is spying on us.”

Dean turned to his house and saw Sam staring out the window, waving at them. Dean rolled his eyes. “That’s just my brother.”

“Should I get out of the car and introduce myself?” Castiel asked, and Dean hoped he was joking. 

“No, he’s just being nosy. Let’s go.”

Castiel shrugged and pulled out of the driveway. “Maybe another time.”

“You really wanna meet my brother?”

“Of course. I’d love to meet him. From what you’ve told me, he sounds charming. And he’s important to you.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Dean wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. He had to admit that his relationship with Castiel wasn’t entirely of professor/student anymore. They were friends. But it still seemed out of the ordinary to introduce Castiel to Sam. It seemed like an extra step. To their new friendship.

Castiel pressed play on his touchscreen stereo and a cheerful song started playing. It was another 60’s song, unsurprisingly. Dean realized he was familiar with many 60’s music, and it was likely from his parents listening to it while he was growing up. Well, other than Queen. 

_ Sugar pie, honey bunch, you know that I love you. I can’t help myself. I love you and nobody else. In and out my life, you come and you go _. 

The music was a welcoming sound filling up the small space. Castiel hummed quietly as he drove. He seemed calm, which was a complete opposite to how Dean was feeling. He was afraid Castiel could hear the quick thump-thumping of Dean’s heart from how hard it was beating.

They arrived at a local Italian restaurant that had a long waiting line extending to the parking lot. Dean winced at it because he was hungry after forgetting to eat since breakfast due to his nerves. Castiel noticed. Of course he did. Nothing went unnoticed by him.

“Don’t worry, Dean. I made reservations.”

Dean glanced at Castiel as they walked up to the entrance. “You made reservations? Really? That was really thoughtful of you.”

“Well, I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“I fix cars all the time.”

Castiel smiled at Dean, but his smile was different. Like he knew something Dean didn’t know, and the mystery of it kept Dean staring at him. Castiel held the door for him. “I know you do. Come on, let’s get our table.”

They were seated right away, thanks to their reservations. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out to eat at a restaurant. He rarely went out anymore. Lately, his life consisted of Mary, Sam, school, and work every now and then. There was no time for eating out at nice places where you needed to make reservations. But as soon as they sat at a table with dim lighting and soft tablecloths, Dean was glad he’d accepted Castiel’s invitation.

Castiel ordered a bottle of red wine, and chickpea bruschetta as their appetizer. “I hope you don’t mind that I ordered for the two of us. I’m a fan of their house wine and bruschetta.”

“I don’t mind.” It wasn’t a lie. Dean wanted to try the things Castiel liked because he had a good feeling about him. Maybe it was trust. Maybe it was the growing crush he had on him. Dean couldn’t be sure, but he wasn’t going to worry about that tonight.

Castiel glanced at him over his menu. “I want you to know that nothing we discuss tonight will affect your grade in my class. In case you were worried about that. I don’t want you to act any different with me than you would with any other friend.”

“I wasn’t worried about that, honestly,” Dean said. “I think I got the sense that you’re a pretty fair person.”

“Did you?” Castiel lowered his menu. “Any other first impressions?”

Dean smiled. “Well, I thought you were cool from the start because you gave me chocolate. Oh, and being a Vonnegut fan gave you hundreds of brownie points.”

Castiel laughed, his nose wrinkling. “I should have known you had a thing for chocolate after we ate that cake. And I think we’ve agreed that Vonnegut is an excellent author. I’d like to know more about you. What made you decide to start your college career with two philosophy courses?”

Before Dean could answer, their waiter brought over their wine and bruschetta. Dean took a small sip to test it out and then he took two more because it was delicious. When he bit into the bruschetta, he was glad to find that chickpeas tasted better than expected. Castiel had chosen well on both accounts.

“Are you ready to order your entrees or should I come back?” the waiter asked.

Castiel looked at Dean. “I’m ready, but I don’t know if you are.”

Dean blushed. “I haven’t looked at my menu yet.”

Castiel smiled at him, and then at the waiter. “We’ll need a few more minutes, thanks.”

“No, wait,” Dean said. “I’ll just have what he’s having.”

“Are you sure?” Castiel asked.

“I think I can trust you with food. So far, so good.” Dean took another bite of his bruschetta.

Castiel beamed at Dean for a moment before he placed their orders, which turned out to be chicken marsala. Mushrooms had never been Dean’s thing, but neither had chickpeas, and he was loving them right now. The waiter left with their orders and Dean sipped his wine.

“So, where were we?” Castiel asked, leaning closer.

Dean licked his lips, setting his glass down. When he looked at Castiel, he quickly flipped his gaze from Dean’s lips to his eyes. It had only been a second, but Dean was sure Castiel had been staring a few inches below his eyes. He wasn’t sure it meant anything, but the action made Dean’s stomach flutter. “You wanted to know why I’m taking philosophy classes. I don’t really know. I just picked what sounded interesting. I’ve always wanted to learn more about religion and feminism. I figured it was a good place to start.”

“You know, I’ve heard amazing things about you from Charlie.” Castiel sipped his wine.

“Charlie talks about me? To you?” Dean wasn’t sure how he felt about his professors talking about him. 

“She adores you,” Castiel said, grinning. “She thinks you bring a lot of great insight to the daily class discussions. I told her I thought the same thing.”

“I love her class.” Dean wasn’t sure how to proceed with this conversation, so he was glad when Castiel changed the subject.

“We don’t have to talk about school tonight. Tell me about your family. Do you have any other siblings besides Sam?”

Dean shook his head. “Only Sam. But he’s great. He’s been a big help now that…” Dean bit his tongue. He was about to mention Mary, and that set off a bunch of alarms inside. Sharing that part of his life with Castiel felt premature. “Now that I started school,” Dean finished, only half-lying.

“That’s great to hear. I’m assuming you’re close?”

“We are. So close that he can be a pain in the ass most of the time, but I love him. Sammy’s the one that keeps me sane.”

When their food arrived, Dean dug in and found that mushrooms tasted better than he thought. The chicken marsala turned out to be one of the best things he’d ever eaten. Castiel did it again. And that was exactly what he told him.

Castiel laughed, a bit sheepishly. “I’m just used to Italian food. It’s my favorite type of food.”

“You have good taste.” Dean took another bite, and once he swallowed, he said, “It’s your turn.”

“My turn?” Castiel asked, mid-bite.

“You have to tell me about you, and leave out all the school stuff.”

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m not sure there’s much about me that’s interesting.”

“Let me decide that.”

“Alright,” Castiel said, holding Dean’s gaze. “I lived in Austin until I was twelve, and then I moved to Colorado. At eighteen, I went to college in New York, and then I did my graduate studies in California. I lived there until I was thirty-four, and then I moved to London on a whim. I lived four incredible years there, but I got a bit homesick, so I came back to my roots.”

“So you’ve been everywhere,” Dean concluded. He’d only ever traveled a few states in his entire life. Castiel had been overseas. On a whim. Their lives were so different. But that was to be expected. Castiel was a college professor, and Dean was a mechanic.

“I have, but I never considered any of those places home. This—Austin—has always been my home.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

Castiel shifted in his seat. “Yes. I have five. A sister, and four brothers.”

“Whoa. Your parents must have been bored.”

“You could say that. Most of them live in Denver, with the exception of my brother Gabriel. He travels a lot, so he never stays in one place too long.”

“I’ve never really traveled,” Dean said, and he hated the shame in his voice. There was nothing wrong with staying in one place most of his life.

“Are you from Austin?”

“I’m from Lawrence, Kansas.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “I lived there until I graduated from high school. My dad, he passed away around that time. So me, my mom, and Sammy moved. We didn’t want to live in the town where we had memories of him. We moved to Austin ‘cause my aunt and uncle live here. We’ve been living here ever since.”

Castiel reached across the table to place his hand on top of Dean’s. His touch was all at once comforting and alarming. Dean didn’t know how to react, so he sat very still. “I’m sorry about your father, Dean.”

_ My dad isn’t the problem anymore _, Dean wanted to say. But he didn’t say anything. He simply nodded and continued eating.

Castiel asked for the check soon after. Dean was a bit disappointed that they didn’t stay for dessert, but he didn’t blame Castiel for wanting to leave right after they finished their dinner. Dean shouldn’t have rambled so much about himself. 

But once they got back in the car, Castiel smiled at Dean. “I hope you still have room for dessert. There’s this diner a few blocks down that makes the best pie. We have about half an hour before they close.”

Dean couldn’t contain the ridiculous smile in return. He’d never mentioned how much he loved pie to Castiel, but again, he proved his good taste in food. “I love pie.”

They made it to the diner in under five minutes, and grabbed an empty booth. Castiel ordered again. This time, two apple pies a la mode. Now Dean really knew he could trust him.

“Are you having a good time, Dean?” Castiel looked at him with uninhibited warmth.

“Yeah, it’s been great. I’m glad we did this.”

“Me too.”

When their pies arrived, Dean took an eager bite. The vanilla ice cream complimented the apple pie really well. It was the classic taste. Dean had never had pie that tasted this much like the one Mary made. It was definitely homemade. He decided to order a piece to go, for Mary.

They ate in comfortable silence, though Dean kept looking at Castiel, only to catch Castiel already looking at him. They did this for a while, and it made Dean smile. He wasn’t sure if it was because they’d shared a great meal, but he had the gnawing feeling that Castiel was sort of into him. Maybe not to the extent that Dean was into Castiel, but there had to be something there. Possibly. Or maybe Dean just needed to return to reality.

In any case, Dean boldened enough to ask, “Are you married?” It was the same question Castiel had asked of him, so he figured it was only fair to return it.

Castiel held up his left hand, showing that his fingers were all bare. “I’m afraid no one has been brave enough to put a ring on it.”

“So bravery is an essential quality in order to marry you?”

“I’d say so.” The tips of Castiel’s ears were pink.

Dean hummed. “I’ve been told I’m a Gryffindor.” Dean hadn’t realized the implications of what he’d said until he’d said it. But it was too late to take it back.

Castiel opened his mouth, staring at Dean with dark blue eyes. It looked like he wanted to say something, but he took another bite of his pie, and looked down at his plate, biting his lip.

Dean wanted to say he hadn’t meant anything by what he’d said. Dean wanted to break the awkwardness that had suddenly taken over. But something deep down stopped him. Maybe it was the part of Dean that ruined everything. Whatever it was, it won. Dean stayed silent, eating his pie.

Thankfully, Castiel broke the silence. “They’re playing Queen.”

Dean listened to the music overhead. Castiel was right. _ Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy _ was playing. _ I’d like for you and I to go romancing. Say the word, your wish is my command _. “I like this song.”

“That’s not shocking. There aren’t any bad Queen songs.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You sound just like my mom. You two would love each other.”

“You haven’t said much about her. I’d like to know more about this woman who loves Queen.”

Dean looked away. He should have known this would happen. He didn’t want to lie to Castiel, but he didn’t want to talk about this. So, he kept things light. “She makes the best pies. You think these are good, but hers are ten times better. She has seen _ Mamma Mia! _ , and _ Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again _ an unhealthy amount of times. I think she’s truly convinced that Sam hung the moon. And she’s…well, what can I say? She’s the best mom I could ever ask for.”

Castiel smiled. “I like the way you talk about her. I can tell how much you love her.”

“I do. I don’t know what I would do without her.” _ I don’t want to think about what I would do without her. _

♦

Castiel dropped Dean off a quarter after 10 p.m., and Dean noticed something different in Castiel. Maybe it was the way he looked at Dean. He’d looked at Dean a lot tonight, but never like this. Expectantly. Dean looked back at him, lingering in the car. He knew he should get out, not just because he had a cooling pie on his lap, but because he wanted desperately to kiss Castiel. The small space they were currently in wasn’t helping the matter. Castiel was so close. Dean didn’t have to lean that much to kiss him. Just once. On the lips. On his cheek. On his temple. On the corner of his jaw.

But Dean swallowed and opened the passenger door. “I should go inside.”

Castiel nodded, almost like he was lost in his thoughts and Dean had brought him back. “I will see you tomorrow at the bar we talked about. Charlie and I will take a Lyft together, but let me know if you want to tag along for the ride.”

“I think I’ll drive myself, but thanks.” Dean cleared his throat. The cool breeze of the night was flooding inside while the door was ajar. “And thanks for dinner. It was great. The pie was great, too. And you were…you know, great.”

Castiel laughed. “Noted. Everything was great. I’m glad you liked it.”

Dean was about to get out when Castiel touched his shoulder. It was a soft, tender touch, almost like Castiel was hesitant to touch him. When Dean turned around, Castiel’s face was just inches away from him. Dean looked right at his lips, at the curve of them, and Dean was filled with longing all the way to the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to kiss someone this much. Someone he knew he shouldn’t kiss. When he looked back into Castiel’s eyes, he noticed his blue eyes had gone darker. Castiel’s hand slid down from Dean’s shoulder to his forearm, a lingering touch that had grown bolder.

“Good night, Dean,” Castiel said, quietly. And then his hand was gone.

“Good night.” Dean was breathless. 

♦

Dean found Mary on the living room couch, watching _ Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again _. The sequel seemed to be her favorite as of lately. Probably because she hadn’t seen that one as much as the first one. Dean warmed up the pie and grabbed a fork from the kitchen. Then he sat beside her, holding out the pie and fork for her. “Brought you some pie.”

Mary glanced at him, a small smile on her lips. Today, she was wearing a yellow scarf on her head. It brightened up her face, just a little. She took a bite of the pie and nodded. “This is very good. Not as good as mine, but it’s almost there.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Dean said. He got a little distracted when he heard the song in the movie. _ And I couldn’t help it, I just had to kiss the teacher _. He was being punished by all of the gods in all of the religions for wanting to kiss his professor when he knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t.

“As you can see, this is my family in their natural habitat.” Sam walked into the room holding a camera. He was narrating to the camera. “That’s my mom eating pie, which I didn’t know we had—”

“We don’t,” Mary said. “This is all mine.”

“Of course it is,” Sam said, turning the camera back to him. And then he focused the camera on Dean. “And this is my older brother. I know it’s been a while since I promised to film him, but he’s so busy lately. Dean, say hi.”

Dean made a face. “What the hell are you doing with that camera? Don’t film me. I didn’t give you my permission. I can sue you, you know.”

“Oh. Right. You’re going to sue the only lawyer in the family.”

“No, but seriously, what’s with the camera?”

Sam sighed. He put the camera down and sat down on the arm of the couch they were sitting on. “Last week I started a YouTube channel. It started as fitness videos. I wanted to start a video diary on my workout regiment, but then those turned into vlogs. I’ve recorded Mom in most of my videos, but you’re never around when I pull out my camera so I wanted to introduce you to my viewers now that you’re here.”

“What’s the point of having a YouTube channel?”

“It’s fun,” Sam said, grinning. “I think my channel’s growing pretty fast. I have about fifty-thousand subscribers already. And I get money from ads, so it’s not an entire waste of time.”

Dean snorted. “How do you have any time to waste?”

“I make the time,” Sam said. “Mom really likes my videos.”

“That’s right, I do,” Mary said. “I had Ellen watch them with me the other day. Sam’s good on camera.”

Dean didn’t doubt that. Sam had the type of charm that would have really helped Dean tonight with Castiel. Too bad their genes didn’t match up exactly when it came to that. “Fine, record your videos, but don’t record me.”

“Why not? I’ve received hundreds of comments from viewers asking to see you. They have a poll going guessing who will be hotter, you or me.”

Dean gaped at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?” And then Dean asked the more important question, “Who’s winning?”

“Me, obviously,” Sam said. “They don’t know what you look like. For all they know, you’re my ugly stepsister.”

“Bitch,” Dean said.

Mary shook her head. “Boys, will you stop your fighting? I’m watching my movie.”

“You know this movie by heart,” Dean said.

“So? I want to see it again.”

Sam pointed his camera at them. “Mom and Dean are trying to see _ Mamma Mia! _, so I’m just going to zoom in real close on Dean’s face so you can see he’s not as flawless as he looks from afar. He has some nasty pimple scars.”

Dean glared at Sam. “I’m going to kill you.”

Sam laughed. “I love you too, bro.”

This time, Mary laughed. “You boys drive me crazy.”

Dean wrapped an arm around her and leaned his head on her shoulder. “But you love us.”

“More than anything,” Mary said.

Sam finally stopped recording and sat on Mary’s other side. They finished watching the movie together.


	6. Chapter 6

“Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move  
before I make a move.”

-Ariana Grande, _ Into You _

Cheer Up Charlies was packed to the brim. Parking had been a hassle. Dean should have taken up Castiel on his ride offer. Fortunately, Dean found Castiel and Charlie at a table near the entrance, which saved him from pushing through the crowds. Apparently, tonight was drag night. There was already a drag queen on the stage lip-synching Cher’s hits.

It was the first time Dean saw Charlie outside of school, which led him to awkwardly shake her hand. Charlie and Castiel laughed at the same time.

“I wasn’t sure how to greet you,” Dean said, taking a seat beside Castiel.

“Fist bumps work for me,” Charlie said, extending her fist. Dean knocked his fist against hers. “Much better. It’s really good to see you here, Dean! Cas told me you’ve been hanging out.”

Dean looked at Castiel, wondering what he’d told Charlie, but Castiel looked calm, a soft smile on his face as he looked at Dean. “Yeah, we went to dinner last night.”

“How come I wasn’t invited to that?” Charlie asked, elbowing Castiel on the ribs. “Rude ass bitch.”

Dean widened his eyes. The thought of calling Castiel a “rude ass bitch” would have never occurred to him. He wouldn’t call Charlie anything remotely similar either. He thought that maybe it was a bit odd hanging out with both of his professors outside of school. There was clearly not an even ground between them. “Do you two hang out with your students often?”

“Oh, yeah!” Charlie said, sipping her pink drink. It had a piece of pineapple on the rim, and it looked good. Castiel had the same drink in front of him. “All the time. I love my students. I’m still friends with students I had years ago.”

“I don’t,” Castiel said, looking back at Charlie, and then at Dean. “Most of my students are much younger than me, usually fresh out of high school. I don’t tend to have much in common with them.”

“So I’m an exception for you,” Dean said, smiling, “because I’m old.”

Castiel looked mortified. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.”

Dean laughed. “I’m kidding. I mean, we both know I’m probably your oldest student. It’s cool.”

“I don’t know if you’re my oldest student, but you’re definitely my favorite.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “I swear, Cas won’t shut up about you. All I hear is Dean is so smart. Dean is so great. Dean said this, Dean said that. I keep having to stop him to tell him, hey man, he’s my student too. I know how awesome he is.”

Castiel smiled bashfully. “I told you you’re my favorite.”

Dean felt the familiar fluttering in his stomach. Castiel talked about him a lot and Dean didn’t know what to do with that, except grin like an idiot. “And you say I butter you up all the time.”

Castiel bit his lip, looking at Dean. “Should I get you a drink? We’re each having a pink pineapple dream. They’re delicious. You should try mine and see if you like it.” Castiel offered the drink to Dean, and Dean took it. 

He tried not to think too long about sharing the same straw with Castiel as he sipped it. It was sweet, but not as sweet as he thought. The rum came through enough to give it a kick. “I like it. I’ll have one too.”

“I’ll get it for you,” Castiel said, and then he was gone.

Charlie looked at Dean as she sipped her drink. “Cas seems to really like you.”

And there went Dean’s heart, thumping right out of his ribcage. His hands were sweaty. Suddenly, he wasn’t a thirty-seven-year-old man anymore. He was a teenager with a crush on a guy who really seemed to like him. “Yeah, no, I like him too.” It was the only thing Dean could think of saying that didn’t sound too incriminating.

“I’ve never seen him so smitten before,” Charlie said.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “I…uh…”

Castiel was back before Dean could finish his sentence, which was good because Dean had no idea where that sentence was going. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? ‘Oh yeah, I’m smitten with Cas too. So smitten I fell asleep last night thinking about kissing him.’ No, that wasn’t going to cut it.

“Here’s your drink,” Castiel said, placing a pink pineapple dream in front of him. 

Dean took a long gulp straight from the glass. He was going to need it. “Thanks, Cas.”

“You call him Cas too?” Charlie asked, eyebrows raised. She looked at Castiel. “I thought you didn’t let your students call you that.”

“Dean is…different,” Castiel said, looking away.

“Different?” Charlie asked, looking from Castiel to Dean, a smile growing.

Castiel didn’t respond to that. Instead, he turned to Dean and asked, “Are you liking this place? How is it for your first gay bar?”

Dean grinned, glad for the diversion. “I love it. I’m really digging the drag show.”

“I know, that’s the best part.”

When the drag show ended, a lively DJ took over. Suddenly, the bar was filled with pop music. Dean wouldn’t admit this to many people, but he was a fan of Ariana Grande, and he knew every word to _ Into You _. He did his best not to mouth his lips to the song. 

“You guys wanna dance?” Charlie asked, hopping out of her seat.

A few people had started dancing, and Dean was on his second pink pineapple dream, so he shrugged and hopped down too. Castiel followed suit. The three of them formed a small circle on the dance floor and started dancing. In a matter of seconds, a blonde woman was dancing with Charlie, holding her hands and pressing close to her. Charlie was really into it.

Then, Dean felt a tap on his back and he turned to see a tall, tanned, muscular man with a beard staring at him. “You wanna dance, handsome?”

Dean looked helplessly back at Castiel. And then Castiel had both hands on Dean’s hips and he was pulling him towards him. Castiel looked back at the man and said, “He’s with me.” And Dean couldn’t care less about the man’s reaction because Castiel was right there, and his hands were firm on Dean’s hips while Dean put his hands around Castiel’s neck. They were dancing. Castiel moved closer, his cheek close to Dean’s, smooth movements on his hips. Dean wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking, but Castiel’s hold felt possessive. He had a good hold of Dean, and Dean could feel his breath on his neck.

They danced on. Dean blamed it all on the pink pineapple dream. He blamed it for the way Castiel rolled his hips closer. He blamed it for the way his hands dug into Castiel’s hair. He blamed it for the heat that was traveling between them with every move. 

Dean turned his face and there was Castiel’s cheek and Dean pressed his open mouth against it. It wasn’t a kiss, but it wasn’t not a kiss. It was brief contact, but it sent a thrill all the way down Dean’s body. For just one second, Dean could feel the roughness of Castiel’s stubble. He felt his skin against his lips and it was incredible. When he pulled away, he searched Castiel’s eyes to see if he’d felt what Dean had done. Castiel was looking at him, and there was a glint in his eyes, something bright that Dean hadn’t seen before. Then, very clearly, Castiel looked at Dean’s lips and there was hunger in those blue eyes. It couldn’t have been Dean’s imagination this time because he felt Castiel’s hands tighten on his hips.

Then there was Charlie, startling both of them. She was sweaty and wanted another drink, and asked them if they wanted another one too. Dean said yes, but Castiel asked for a water instead. They went back to their table while Charlie went for their drinks.

For the rest of the night, Dean tried to pretend nothing had happened. He tried to forget it. But every time he locked eyes with Castiel, he was reminded of how real it had all felt. Dean thought that, maybe, he could have kissed Castiel and it would have been okay.

♦

The day after the bar felt dull compared to the night Dean had spent pressed to Castiel. They didn’t dance again after their one time, but Dean felt Castiel getting closer throughout the night. As they sat side by side, Dean was hyper aware of his leg pressed against Castiel’s leg under the table. They didn’t have to be that close, but they only grew closer. Their touches were brief, but Castiel would occasionally put his hand on Dean’s arm, back, or shoulder. Dean tried to ignore the way Castiel’s touch ignited a fire inside him. It was a wasted effort.

After breakfast, Mary suggested a family dinner. She told Dean and Sam that Bobby, Ellen, and Jo were going out of town for Thanksgiving so they had to have a pre-Thanksgiving dinner. Sam was completely on board with the plan. He had that excited puppy-dog look on his face. Dean couldn’t say no to either of them, so he went out to pick up the food and drinks while Sam called up their guests.

Dean was standing in the soda aisle at the grocery store, trying to decide which drinks to get, when his phone dinged. It was a text message. Dean stared down at his phone, blinking, half-guessing he was still stuck in a dream from the previous night. As stupid as it was, Dean pinched himself, just to be sure he was really awake. And yep, he sure was.

He looked at the text again.

**Cas:** _Hello, Dean. I had a lovely time last night. Thank you for agreeing to come. We should do it again sometime. _

Dean wanted to sit down, to process what the text could mean, but there was nowhere to sit and he still had to pick some sodas for today. He took a deep breath, never taking his eyes away from his phone screen, afraid the text would disappear. They’d exchanged numbers after the farmer’s market, but Castiel had never texted Dean. And Dean would have never had the courage to text Castiel first. But this? How was Dean supposed to proceed from this?

Alright. He was going to answer. He had to answer. He couldn’t just leave Castiel hanging. 

**Dean: ** _ Sure! I’m down for whatever. _

As soon as Dean sent the text, he regretted it. That was definitely too forward. More forward than Castiel wanting to hang out again. Castiel probably meant doing it again sometime with Charlie included in their plans. He wasn’t asking to be alone with Dean. Sighing with dread, Dean put his phone back in his pocket and grabbed a twelve pack of Coke, and then a twelve pack of Sprite. 

The next text came as Dean was paying. Dean waited to check his phone until he was in the parking lot, opening up his trunk to deposit all his bags inside.

**Cas** : _ Come to my office after class on Monday. I’ll get the burgers this time. _

Dean’s heart was pounding. Castiel did want to see him alone. 

**Dean:** _Can’t wait. ;)_

Dean knew he’d lost his mind when he sent that winky face. He knew that. But he wasn’t sorry about it. 

When he was done packing his groceries in his trunk and got behind the wheel of his car, Dean’s hands were shaking. Expectation mixed with longing and adrenaline was fueling him. Dean was texting his professor winky faces because he had an enormous crush on him and he was going to explode if he didn’t do something about it. But was a winky face the right move? Dean had no idea. So he went home.

His phone dinged as he drove, but for the sake of safe driving, he ignored it. As soon as he was parked, though, Dean grabbed his phone.

**Cas** : _ Bohemian Rhapsody just came on while I was shopping at Barnes & Noble and I couldn’t help but think of you and your mother. _

Dean stared at his phone for a long time. He wasn’t sure whether this text was good or not. First of all, Castiel had completely ignored the winky face. Second of all, Castiel had mentioned Mary, which threw Dean off. At least Castiel hadn’t decided to avoid interacting with Dean after the winky face.

**Dean** : _ I’m glad Queen makes you think of us. _

For the sake of keeping his sanity, Dean put his phone in his room and went without it for the rest of the day. He got started on dinner, putting Sam in charge of all the chopping while Mary put on her favorite Queen records. 

The house was filled with laughter, good music, and mouthwatering smells by the time the rest of their family arrived. Dean went to greet Ellen with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“What’s that wonderful smell?” Ellen asked.

Dean smirked. “My beef fajitas. I hope you’re hungry cause I just cooked up a storm in there.”

“_ We _ cooked up a storm,” Sam corrected. “I did all the chopping.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry for stealing all the credit. What are you gonna do, sue me?”

“Come up with better threats,” Sam said. 

Mary shook her head, not even bothering to chastise them. She took Ellen to the living room by the arm.

“Did you make dessert?” Jo asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said.

“Pie?”

“You know me so well.”

“You better watch how much pie you eat, boy,” Bobby said, grabbing a beer from the fridge. “Or we’ll have matching guts.”

“I think you got that beer gut from all the beer you drink, Dad,” Jo said.

Bobby waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll be on my favorite recliner if you need me.”

“Need some help?” Jo asked, leading the way to the kitchen, where Sam was grabbing a few sodas. “Don’t give my mom any caffeine. We’re doing a caffeine cleanse.”

Sam looked at the Cokes in his hands, and then he switched one for a Sprite. “Alright. But if Aunt Ellen throws this Sprite at me, I’ll throw another one at you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jo said.

Sam threw her a glare that looked about as threatening as a ladybug before he left the room.

Jo laughed. “Do you think Sam knows his bitchface is hilarious? I don’t want to tell him it is because I don’t want him to stop making it.”

“Oh, he’s totally oblivious,” Dean said. “That’s why it’s so funny.”

“Tell me what to do,” Jo said, washing her hands. 

“You can make the guac while I finish the salad.”

And so they got to work. The cooking was almost done, so Jo helped set the table with their good china. Once all the plates were served, they called everyone to the table. 

“This looks so good,” Ellen said, sitting next to Mary, who was, as always, at the head of the table. “You’re a great cook, Dean.”

“Hey, I helped!” Sam said.

“Yeah, and he almost chopped his pinky off,” Dean said. “I think you need glasses, Sammy.”

“The knives are just too sharp,” Sam said. “My eyesight is fine.”

Mary narrowed her eyes at him. “You know what? I think Dean might be right. Last week when you drove me to my appointment, you almost ran over that poor squirrel on the road.”

“That’s because it came out of nowhere!” Sam protested.

“I don’t know, bro,” Dean said. “Sounds like you need glasses.”

“I don’t need glasses,” Sam said. “Glasses wouldn’t look good on me.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Shut up,” Sam mumbled.

“Wouldn’t be a family dinner without all this bickering,” Bobby said.

“Amen to that,” Ellen said.

“Do you see what I have to put up with every day?” Mary asked.

Dean grinned. This was perfect.

♦

Dean escaped to his room as soon as Sam pulled out his camera to vlog. Sam tried to get Dean to stick around, telling him that his viewers had loved him. Apparently, there had been another poll to decide which one of them was the better-looking brother, but they had tied 50/50. Dean didn’t care. He didn’t want to be filmed. 

The first thing Dean noticed when he stepped into his room was his cell phone sitting on his dresser. He was itching to know if Castiel had texted back. He figured he should check now that dinner was over and his family had left. 

Dean had two text messages. Both from Castiel.

**Cas: ** _ Many things make me think of you. _

**Cas: ** _ For example, this quiz I’m currently grading with your name on it makes me think of you. Good job. Another perfect hundred. _

Dean couldn’t help but smile. Castiel was joking with him. Things were good between them. Maybe Dean shouldn’t be so forward with Castiel. He would probably scare him off. Although, there was something that told him Castiel was just as drawn to Dean as he was to him. He could still remember Castiel’s touch from the night before. Soft at times, but firm at others. On the dance floor, Castiel’s hands on Dean’s hips had been strong and firm. It had felt delicious.

**Dean** : _ I might need some help on my research paper tomorrow, if you don’t mind. _

**Cas** : _ That’s what I’m here for _.

♦

“I’m sure you’re all thrilled to jump right into Christianity,” Castiel said as soon as he walked into class.

Dean perked up at the sight of Castiel in a blue shirt. He hadn’t bothered doing much reading in preparation. He’d grown up going to church every Sunday and knew the basics. If he came out learning something new, he’d consider himself lucky.

Castiel settled in, and started up PowerPoint, getting right to the lecture. He seemed a bit off. If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d say he was kind of upset about the topic. It was odd, considering how much Castiel seemed to enjoy teaching religions. 

The first slide was a simple sentence: Tell me what you know about Christianity and the Bible.

Hands were raised all over the room. Dean kept his hands on his desk, hesitant about jumping in. What did he know that the others didn’t? He didn’t want to sound overeager either. 

Across the room, Castiel glanced at him, smiled, and looked away.

Dean lived for those smiles, the ones that he knew were just for him. And just for that smile, Dean decided to raise his hand, too. But Castiel didn’t pick him first. He decided to call on everyone, starting at the front.

The answers were very similar: The Holy Trinity, the Virgin Mary got pregnant by the holy spirit, Jesus died on the cross and then resurrected, God instigated a lot of destruction starting with the flood, angels were his messengers and destructors, a lot of incest happened and it was somehow okay, polygamy was also okay, and so was homophobia—Castiel pinched the bridge of his nose at this, but then moved the conversation along.

When it was Dean’s turn, he turned bright red with all eyes on him. Dean blurted the first thing that came to his mind, “Song of Solomon has some steamy poems that are kind of good.”

A wide smile slowly grew on Castiel’s face. He looked like Dean had just told him he’d won the lottery. “Yes!” Castiel nearly shouted. “Yes! Perfect. Something worth delving into. Thank you, Dean.”

Dean grinned. “Glad I could help.”

Castiel went back to his computer, minimized the PowerPoint, and pulled up Google. He typed up Song of Solomon 2:1 and clicked on the first link. Then he read in a deep voice from the King James version: “I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters. As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.”

Dean’s throat was dry, and he realized he’d been staring at Castiel’s mouth while he spoke, at the way his lips curved and his tongue moved. It was hypnotizing. 

“This is quite romantic,” Castiel said. “I’ve always enjoyed Song of Solomon. It’s definitely worth the read. I’ve read this passage many times. The rose of Sharon is a symbolism of beauty and perfection. She is King Solomon’s lover, and she’s lovesick. For her, there is nothing sweeter than his taste.” Castiel finished his sentence with his eyes trained directly on Dean. “The rose of Sharon is the most exquisite flower. Nothing else can ever measure up.”

Dean swallowed because the intensity of Castiel’s gaze was too much to bear. Simultaneously intoxicating and not enough. For a second, he forgot he was in a class filled with twenty other students. It was so easy to believe that Castiel was the only other person in the room, and that Dean could walk up to him and have a taste.

“My favorite thing about this passage is how relatable it is,” Castiel continued, eyes still on Dean. “That feeling of desire, of wanting someone so intensely, so desperately, it can be all-consuming. It can even be frustrating at times. But it’s a feeling so magnificent you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Jack said, and the bubble was broken.

Castiel broke the eye-contact, cleared his throat, and pulled up PowerPoint again. 

Dean tried not to think too much about what had happened. He didn’t want to get his hopes up for nothing.

Another student raised her hand. Dean knew her name was Claire, but he’d never talked to her before. 

Castiel sounded a bit distracted when he called on her. “Yes?”

“Were you speaking from personal experience?” Claire asked, grinning from ear to ear. “You know, with all the rose of Sharon stuff?”

Castiel cleared his throat and fidgeted with his tie. “Yes. I have felt this way before.”

“Before?” Claire asked.

Castiel laughed, but it was a nervous sound. “I don’t think my love life is relevant to today’s lecture. But nice try.”

Dean hadn’t realized he’d been blushing the entire conversation. 

After class, Castiel extended his help for the research paper to everyone. It was due right after their Thanksgiving break, for which Castiel had apologized beforehand. There were a lot of tired sighs in the room at the mention of their essay. College students were simply resigned to them by now.

Due to his offer, though, Castiel’s office had a long line after class. Dean could do nothing but wait his turn. And wait he did. It took nearly two hours to get through all of the students. Once the last one was gone, Dean stepped inside. 

Castiel looked tired, typing away on his computer. “I’ll be with you in a second,” he said, not bothering to look up. But when he did, a smile replaced his deep frown. Castiel was out of his seat, walking towards Dean. He extended his arms slightly, in a way that looked like he was about to hug Dean, but instead, Castiel closed his office door. “I’m glad it’s you. I wasn’t sure if you were still here.”

“You promised me burgers. I had to be here.”

Castiel chuckled. “I did, yes, but I’m afraid they’re cold now.”

Dean shrugged. “Is there a microwave nearby?”

“Yes, in the breakroom. You don’t mind reheated burgers?”

Dean snorted. “Please, I’ve had my brother’s cooking. Reheated burgers is nothing compared to his extra greasy Vienna sausages.”

“I’ll go heat them up, then.” Castiel touched Dean’s hip as he walked past him, sending goosebumps down Dean’s arms.

Dean exhaled, sitting down on Castiel’s purple couch. It was so comfortable that he feared he’d fall asleep if he closed his eyes for a few seconds. While Castiel was gone, Dean looked through the books on the shelf. One title stuck out to him. _ The Satanic Bible _ by Anton Szandor LaVey. Dean grabbed the book. It was a small black paperback copy. 

Castiel returned soon with paper plates and drinks. He sat beside Dean on the couch. “I didn’t think so many of my students were going to seek my help at once. I did say I had office hours on Wednesday too, didn’t I?”

Dean laughed. “You did, but I think most of them just wanna get it over with.”

“You’re probably right.” Castiel sighed, angling his body towards Dean. “What’s that?”

Dean held up the book. “_ The Satanic Bible _, apparently.”

Castiel shrugged. “The Church of Satan is a religion. Or a cult. There’s some debate about that. Anton LaVey was a total dumbass, but the book is interesting.”

Dean liked that Castiel was so open to all religions. As if Dean needed more reasons to like his professor. Dean put the book back on the shelf. “Maybe I’ll read it one day.”

Castiel smiled. “So. How was your weekend?”

“You mean besides seeing you for most of it?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.

The tip of Castiel’s ears turned pink as he looked away. “Right. That was a stupid question.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Dean said. “I actually had a pre-Thanksgiving dinner with my family yesterday. It was a lot of fun.”

“Pre-Thanksgiving? Nice. Do you mind if I ask why you celebrated Thanksgiving a week early?”

“My aunt, uncle, and cousin are going out of town for the holiday, so my mom came up with a pre-Thanksgiving dinner. I made fajitas.”

“You cooked?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, and I make a mean fajita. I’m not so good with the desserts yet, but I made a few pecan pies that everyone ate without a fuss. I guess I’m not so bad in the kitchen.”

“I’d love to taste your cooking someday,” Castiel said, with a new intensity in his gaze. There was something like affection there.

“Tell me when, and I’ll cook for you,” Dean said.

Castiel smiled sideways, staring at Dean for a while before he brushed a strand of Dean’s hair aside. It was an intimate gesture, but it felt so natural between them. Dean had grown used to Castiel’s touches. He wondered how Castiel would react to Dean touching him because Dean had tried to keep his hands to himself. But maybe, he didn’t have to be so cautious around Castiel anymore. Slowly, Dean lifted his hand and straightened Castiel’s shirt collar, which was usually crooked. Castiel smiled wider at that.

Dean realized how weird it was that they hadn’t spoken for a few minutes, but it didn’t feel awkward. Somehow, gazing into his professor’s perfect blue eyes without speaking felt like the best thing in the world. Dean let his hand wander slightly down Castiel’s chest before he withdrew it completely. But he didn’t miss Castiel’s sudden intake of breath.

“I know you had a busy day today and your office hours are technically over now, but I could really use your help on my essay,” Dean said, breaking the silence.

Apparently, bringing up schoolwork was the wrong thing to do because Castiel cleared his throat and went to sit behind his desk, far away from Dean. It was ridiculous, but Dean instantly missed Castiel’s nearness. He tried to get it back by sitting across from his desk, but it just wasn’t the same.

Dean pulled out all of his printed research for his essay. He hadn’t written a research paper in so many years. He was pretty rusty. He’d chosen Hinduism as the focus of his research, but he’d been having trouble narrowing it down to only one Hindu tradition to expand on. He was hoping Castiel would help with that.

For the next hour, they discussed the many Hinduism traditions that Dean had found on his research. Castiel seemed impressed when Dean pulled out a couple of books he’d checked out on the subject, which he had already read. Dean didn’t think it was that impressive. He found Hinduism incredibly interesting. Learning more about it was a good way to pass the time.

In the end, Dean decided to go with puja, which was a prayer ritual to the deities. He had a lot of research on that and he thought he could write a decent essay on it. Castiel seemed to agree that it was the way to go. 

When Dean left, it was reluctantly. He had a lot of work to do, and he shouldn’t waste more time trying to hit on his professor.

♦

On Wednesday, Dean wore makeup to school. The night before, he’d stayed up late practicing how to put on all of the powders correctly through many makeup tutorials on YouTube. It was much harder than it looked. But he was doing it for the grade. 

Charlie had assigned a project on how to break society standards set by the patriarchy. She had promised to give extra points to anyone who really wowed her. At first, Dean thought about dressing in a pink suit, but he thought that might be a bit too silly, even for him. The makeup idea came from Sam when Dean went to him for help. Sam always knew what to do.

Dean had managed to find a foundation and concealer that matched his skin tone. He’d applied a dark eyeshadow, liquid eyeliner, waterproof mascara, and blush. Contouring took way too long, and he kept getting it wrong, but Mary jumped in to his rescue. She didn’t bat an eye when she walked in on him applying makeup; she only offered to help. And Dean let her. When she was done, Dean looked sort of beautiful. He finished the look with brown lipstick, and he was ready to go.

It was hard at first, walking through the halls with people turning to look at him. But it wasn’t as bad as Dean had imagined. Dean wasn’t the first man to wear makeup on campus. He’d seen at least three others with full makeup that looked much better than him. 

There were a lot of stares directed at him in his Feminism class. At first, Dean was a bit put off by it. But then, Pamela, the girl who sat behind him, tapped him on his shoulder to tell him his makeup was on point. Dean grinned and thanked her, feeling slightly more confident.

Charlie arrived a minute late, and her eyes landed automatically on Dean. She smiled wider than Dean had ever seen her. “Oh my God, Dean. You look absolutely gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Dean said. “My mom actually did my contour.”

“Your mom is a fricken genius.”

“I’ll let her know.”

During his presentation, Dean talked about how rarely he saw men with makeup. He told the class how good he thought he looked in makeup, but how wary he was of the looks he received on his way to class. Dean expressed his views on makeup, and how he thought it was a great way to show your artistic abilities. He talked about how makeup was created for women to make them look more beautiful for men. But men never stopped to think that they could use makeup more than women. In the end, makeup was fun, but it shouldn’t be forced on women.

The class clapped for him when he was done. Dean blew them all kisses.

After class, Charlie stopped Dean before leaving.

“Hey, man, I just wanted to tell you again how much I loved your project,” Charlie said. “Seriously, tell your mom she’s amazing with makeup.” 

“She used to love playing with makeup,” Dean said. _ Now she’s too tired for it _.

“Well, she did a great job on you because you look stunning.”

Dean shifted. “I should wipe this off before my next class.”

Charlie frowned. “Is that really what you wanna do? Or is that what you think you _ should _ do?”

It was definitely what Dean thought he should do. Dean knew he looked good in makeup. He didn’t want to wipe it off yet. Mary had worked so hard on it too. 

“You know what? I’m going to keep my makeup on.”

Charlie offered a fist, and they fist-bumped. “Proud of you.” 

♦

When Dean walked into his World Religions class, Castiel wasn’t there yet. Dean made a beeline to his desk, keeping his chin raised for everyone to see Mary’s work. A few heads turned, but they quickly lost interest. It was a relief because Dean was still a bit self-conscious about his new look. Granted, it wasn’t a look he would keep permanently. But at least for today, this was who Dean was. A man with a shit-ton of makeup. And he loved it.

Castiel walked in holding a stack of papers, which were probably their graded quizzes. He put down his messenger bag and pulled out his laptop, connecting it to the projector as he spoke. “Good afternoon. I’m glad to see most of you here. I know the week before Thanksgiving is usually taken as a week off from all school responsibilities. I’ve already given you next Monday off, so I appreciate you showing up today, those of you who did.” And then Castiel looked around the room, preparing to pass back the quizzes. Dean smiled when Castiel looked directly at him. Castiel’s eyes couldn’t have gone wider. His mouth hung open and he took an unsteady step forward.

Dean tried not to laugh. He wasn’t sure whether Castiel liked what he saw or not, but Dean shrugged it away. He hadn’t done this for Castiel. 

Castiel composed himself, closing his mouth and clearing his throat before passing out the quizzes. He moved quickly down the rows. When he made it to Dean’s desk, he paused, staring down at him. Dean raised an eyebrow, challenging him to say something about it. Castiel bit his lip instead, looking at Dean for a second too long before he moved on to the next student. 

The rest of the class was filled with long looks from Castiel every five minutes or so. Dean wasn’t sure, but it kind of appeared like Castiel was pacing himself. He had a habit of staring at Dean during class, but not to this extent. But every time Castiel looked, he didn’t look away for a long time. What was worse, Dean loved the attention. He craved it. Dean wanted Castiel’s eyes on him and only on him. 

When class was over, Dean hovered by Castiel, who was still gathering his belongings.

“Hello, professor.” Dean grinned. He hadn’t called Castiel “professor” in a while. 

Castiel dropped his notebook. “Dean,” he said, squinting up at Dean with mild annoyance.

“You okay?” Dean bent down to pick up the notebook and handed it back to him.

Castiel inhaled, his gaze never leaving Dean. “I’m alright. Just a bit distracted.”

“I can see that.”

“You look…”

“I look?”

“Incredible.” The word was whispered. Castiel busied himself with packing up his things again, but his ears had turned pink. 

“You think so?” Dean asked, because he wasn’t satisfied with just that.

Castiel looked at him again. “Is this new look for a special occasion? A date, perhaps?”

Dean laughed. He couldn’t be too sure, but there was a hint of jealousy in Castiel’s tone. “It was for a project for Charlie. She loved it.”

Castiel licked his lips, and Dean followed the action. “I’m sure she did.”

“So, I guess I won’t see you until after Thanksgiving.”

Castiel seemed to realize this just now. He frowned. “Oh. That’s right. Well, I hope you have a good time with your family, Dean.”

“You do the same, Cas.” Dean winked because he couldn’t help himself.

The look on Castiel’s face was worth it.


	7. Chapter 7

“No more will I go all around the world  
for I have found my world in you.”

-Calum Scott, _ Around the World _

Their real Thanksgiving was quiet. 

Mary was in too much pain to get out of bed, and she desperately needed the oxygen tank. Dean switched it on for her. It was rare when she didn’t need the oxygen nowadays. It worried Dean to see her struggling to breathe so often. But he couldn’t do much more for her, so he left her to rest.

Dean cooked a whole chicken in the oven, flavored with lemon pepper and vegetables. They couldn’t eat an entire turkey, and he didn’t like wasting food. 

Sam spent most of the day on his laptop, working on a case, and Dean wrote his essay. What looked like an impossible task became a possibility. The words flowed easily out of him because he knew exactly what he was talking about, what with all the research he’d done. Dean was finished with his essay before dinnertime, so he asked Sam to help him revise it. 

Dean sat nervously in the kitchen while Sam went over his essay, which took about half an hour.

“Dean!” Sam called from the living room. “I’m done!”

Dean tried not to run as he made his way to his brother on the couch. He sat down on the edge, staring at the marked-up essay in Sam’s hands. “Well?”

“This is the first research paper you’ve written since high school a million years ago?” Sam asked.

Dean was not impressed. “I get it. I’m old.” Then he winced. “Was it that bad?”

Sam shook his head. “Dude, your essay was amazing. You had so much great research added in pretty naturally, and you backed up all of your claims. I feel like I know a lot more about Hinduism now than I did before. I feel like I actually learned something. You’re, like, a really good writer, Dean.”

Dean had to look away. He was still not good with compliments, even from Sam. “Well, I just hope Cas agrees with you. He’s the one giving me the grade.”

“Oh, he will. Not just because it’s a near perfect essay, but because he’s totally in love with you.”

Dean didn’t want to, but he felt himself blushing. Sam didn’t know what he was saying, but the thought alone had his heart beating out of control. “Give me back my essay.” Dean snatched it from Sam’s hands and flipped through the pages. It was six pages long, which was the requirement. “Why’d you mark it so much?”

“I mostly just added punctuations that you were missing, but nothing too big. I added a lot of comments whenever I felt really immersed in your writing. That’s why there’re so many smiley faces.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course. What else would you have added?”

“I also added hearts.” Sam grinned.

Dean chuckled. “I’ll go fix it, then. Dinner should be ready in five.”

“Should I go check to see if Mom will join us?” Sam asked, closing his laptop.

Dean frowned. “No. She’s not getting out of bed today. It’s just one of those days.”

Sam nodded. “I know. I was just hoping.”

“Me too, Sammy,” Dean said. “Me too.”

♦

It was Monday on finals week, and Dean had been restless in bed, so he decided to just get up and start his day. The kitchen clock read 6:43 a.m., so he made some coffee. Maybe it was the coffee smell—okay, it was definitely the coffee smell—that lured Mary and Sam into the kitchen a few minutes later. Sam yawned and rubbed his eyes, heading directly for a mug to fill up with coffee.

“Morning,” Dean said to both of them. He was glad to see Mary doing better. She was back up on her feet, a soft smile on her face. This morning he couldn’t deny her a cup of coffee.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Mary said, sipping her favorite purple mug.

Sam slumped on a chair at the kitchen table, face hidden behind his own coffee mug. When he surfaced, he asked one of his favorite questions, “What’s for breakfast?”

“If you help me we can make it a good one,” Dean said, opening up the fridge.

Mary set down her mug, which was suddenly empty. “I’ll help, too.”

Dean shook his head. “No, Mom, you should sit. I don’t want you to wear yourself out.”

Mary rolled her eyes. There was a light blush on her cheeks, which made her look lovely and healthy. Dean wasn’t sure what had changed, but for the first time in a long time, he was hopeful about her. “I’m the mom here, aren’t I? I call the shots.”

Dean grinned widely. He couldn’t help it. “Yes, ma’am. Sam and I will follow your lead, then.”

“Damn right you will.”

Sam was back on his feet, yawning again. “How can I help? Just don’t put me at the stove unless you want me to burn the house down.”

“Just crack some eggs, hon,” Mary said, putting on her old purple apron. She hadn’t worn it in months. “We’re making French toast.”

“What about me?” Dean asked.

Mary gave him an amused look. “You’re standing up straight and firm like a soldier awaiting command. You only did that with your dad.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, well, he usually wanted it like that.”

“You look just like him, too.” Mary touched a hand to Dean’s cheek, and then turned to Sam. “Both of you do. He’d be proud of you two, just like I am.”

Sam kissed her cheek. “We know, Mom. We love you.”

“Love you,” Dean mumbled, looking away before either of them noticed the tear that escaped him. After wiping his cheek, he took a deep breath, and smiled again.

“You’re on bacon duty, Dean,” Mary said.

“Hell yeah.”

Halfway through making breakfast, Sam pulled out his camera and recorded Dean and Mary busy at the stove. No matter how much Dean complained, Sam refused to put the camera away. Mary never minded being filmed. She pretty much glowed on camera, anyway.

“So, how’s school going?” Mary asked once Sam stepped away to replace the battery on his camera. “I know the semester is almost over.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been studying for my finals. I think I got the Feminism one down, but I’ll probably go over the Religions one again. I don’t wanna let my professor down.”

“This is the Nirvana professor, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. I didn’t think you’d remember him.”

“Castiel.” Mary smiled. “You spoke very highly of him.”

“Well, Cas is pretty great.” Dean felt his face getting warmer, but he did his best to ignore it.

“And he’s gay?”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Just a question. Nothing to it.”

After a moment of awkward silence, Dean said, “It’s not like that, Mom. I’m not in school to hit on my professors, or whatever.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Mary said, still smiling.

“Sure, he’s handsome and intelligent and interesting, but I don’t think professors are even allowed to date their students. It would be inappropriate for me to hit on him.” _ More than I already have. _

“I haven’t seen you this smitten since Lisa. No, not even then.”

Dean hadn’t thought about Lisa in so long. Her memory was too far away for it to hurt anymore. They’d been together for three years, which was his longest relationship. But Lisa had picked up and left one day, and Dean was so blindsided he could hardly believe it. He vaguely remembered swearing off of people of every gender because he refused to ever be hurt like that again. But he hadn’t thought about that in years. It was odd for Mary to bring her up now.

Before Dean could speak again, Sam was back with the camera, pointing it at the sizzling bacon. “Dean is great at making bacon.”

“Yeah, and you’re not,” Dean said, facing the camera. “I don’t know what kinda lies Sam has told y’all, but he’s a terrible cook. He’d burn water if he bothered to actually turn on a stove.”

“Cooking is overrated,” Sam said. “I’m a busy lawyer. There’s no time for cooking when you’re out there fighting for justice.”

“You’re a lawyer, honey, not a superhero,” Mary said.

“Ouch,” Sam said.

Dean laughed and raised his hand. “High-five!”

Mary gave him a high-five. Then she looked at Sam. “Sorry, honey.”

“They love to gang up on me,” Sam said into the camera. “I’m used to it.”

“We’re just keeping it real,” Dean said. “Get the table ready, Sammy.”

“Alright, that’s my cue,” Sam said to the camera. “Goodbye, everybody. It’s time to eat!”

A few minutes later, the three of them sat at the table for breakfast. The room was loud with their laughter and bright with their smiles. They were so happy it almost felt surreal. Good days had been scarce lately, but something had shifted. Maybe, just maybe, things were going to change for the better.

♦

After breakfast with his family, Dean had felt confident going into his Feminism final. He finished with twenty minutes to spare. It was hard saying goodbye to Charlie, but they exchanged numbers and promised to meet up for drinks sometime next week. 

Dean wouldn’t be seeing Castiel until Wednesday for his final. He’d been studying for days, but he didn’t feel ready yet. With that excuse in mind, Dean went to Castiel’s office. They didn’t have plans for lunch today, but Dean figured an impromptu visit would be fine. He really did want to talk about the final.

Lunch with Castiel in his office had become a common occurrence. They usually ate on the small purple couch, and exchanged glances and soft touches. Dean had grown bolder with time. One time, he set his hand on Castiel’s leg for two seconds, and Castiel didn’t shove it away. But Dean was getting tired of their back and forth going nowhere. Clearly, Castiel was still Dean’s professor, and there were lines they shouldn’t cross. It was just difficult to ignore all of Castiel’s signs that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to Dean. 

Castiel’s office door was ajar, and Dean knocked before entering. Castiel glanced up from his computer with a bright, welcoming grin. “Dean. I wasn’t expecting you today. It’s good to see you, though.”

“You see me all the time lately,” Dean said. 

Castiel stood and walked closer to Dean, leaving only two feet between them. They always stood close to each other. Their closeness had become second nature to Dean. “I do, but it’s always a pleasure.”

“I came to see if you could help me out with the final,” Dean said. “I’ve been studying a lot, but I have a few questions after going through all my notes and the review.”

Castiel smiled sideways. “I’d be more than happy to help.” Castiel’s polite voice took over. It was much different from the soft and rough voice he used with Dean during their lunches. Castiel went to sit behind his desk again. “By the way, have you seen your essay grade yet?”

Dean took his usual seat across from Castiel. “Not yet. Did I bomb it?”

“Dean, no. I’m not sure I’ve ever enjoyed an essay as much as I enjoyed yours. You got a ninety-eight. I would have given you the other two points if you had alphabetized your works cited. I know. I’m nitpicky.”

That was pretty shocking. “Ninety-eight? Are you sure?”

“Very sure. Check Blackboard.”

Dean grinned. He still couldn’t believe it. “I aced my essay. Oh my God. I really aced my essay.”

“I wasn’t expecting anything less from you.”

Dean pulled out his phone and typed a message into his group chat with Sam and Mary.

**Dean** : _ I aced my essay!!! _

“Sorry. I had to tell my mom and Sam.”

Castiel shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. “Don’t apologize. I encourage your excitement. You’ve worked so hard this semester, Dean. I don’t think you should be worried about your final in the slightest.”

Dean checked his phone, but there were no responses yet. Usually, Sam and Mary texted back pretty quickly. It was a little out of character for them not to answer right away, but Dean brushed it off. There was no point in worrying. He would be home soon.

“Are you alright, Dean?” Castiel furrowed his eyebrows.

“I’m fine. Let me take out my notes.”

And so, they went over all of Dean’s questions. There were many. But Castiel was patient with Dean, answering every question that popped up in his mind. By the end, Dean felt much better. He finally felt prepared for the final. 

Castiel walked Dean to the door, which had been left ajar. Castiel’s hand lightly touched the small of Dean’s back, and Dean turned to face him. Dean was extremely close to Castiel, with no personal space between them. From this close, Dean could smell Castiel’s cologne, which only drew him closer. Castiel didn’t move away when Dean touched his fingertips to his cheek, feeling the stubble there. Instead, Castiel closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.

“Do you like me?” The question fell out of Dean’s lips the same way all of his previous questions had. As soon as it popped up in his mind, he spoke it. But this had been brewing for a long time. He’d just never dared to speak it before.

Castiel opened his eyes, looking into Dean’s. “Of course I do. I told you before you’re my favorite student.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Dean wasn’t backing down now. Castiel was deflecting, but Dean was going to be brave about this once and for all.

Castiel parted his lips, attempting to form words that didn’t come. Until they did, and he said, “Dean, I’m your professor. I—”

“I know you are,” Dean said, and he closed the office door. The moment he heard the click, he swallowed down the rest of his fear. “That’s not what I asked.”

Castiel looked like he was in pain. He was clearly having an internal battle with himself. Dean was starting to regret his sudden bravery. Maybe he’d had it all wrong and Castiel wasn’t the least bit interested in him. With Dean’s luck, he’d made a complete fool of himself in front of his favorite professor. Two days before his final exam.

But then, Castiel said, “Yes.” It was a whisper. “Yes.” Louder this time. “The answer is yes. Yes, Dean. I do. Yes. And I know I can’t. I know that. I shouldn’t want you the way I do. But yes. I like you. I wouldn’t know how to hide it if I tried.”

Dean laughed. It burst out of him like laughter was all that he was made of. All at once, he felt giddy with victory. A sharp thrill ran through him. 

“Why are you laughing?” Castiel asked, tilting his head.

Dean cupped Castiel’s face in his hands and leaned into him, leaving an inch of distance between their lips. “Because you’ve made me so happy.” And then, Dean kissed him.

The first kiss was rough. A clash of lips and teeth hurriedly aiming for contact. Castiel reacted quickly to the kiss, his hands circling Dean’s waist and pulling him against him, chest to chest and hip to hip. Dean had his hands firmly on Castiel’s face, and he eagerly opened his mouth to Castiel’s tongue. Dean moved one of his hands to Castiel’s hair, while his other hand moved to Castiel’s chest, popping open the first two buttons of his shirt.

Their second kiss was gentler. Once they both came up for air, Castiel pushed Dean to the purple couch, where Dean’s back hit the armrest, and Castiel straddled his lap. Dean took his chance and leaned in to press his lips on the hollow of Castiel’s throat. Castiel let out a sharp breath, his hands holding Dean in place, as if Dean would ever want to move away. Castiel pressed his lips against Dean’s again, with a tenderness that turned Dean into putty in his hands. Castiel sucked on Dean’s lower lip long enough to leave Dean panting.

Dean continued working Castiel’s shirt buttons open while Castiel’s dark blue gaze never left his. Dean hadn’t known how much he could feel from just being looked at the way Castiel was looking at him, like Dean was the only thing in the world. Once all the buttons were undone, Dean touched as much as he could. Castiel’s chest was muscular and tanned, and Dean loved it. Hands grabbed and squeezed and Castiel squirmed, but he never pushed Dean away. Castiel bit his lip, lowering his gaze with what looked like shyness. Dean lifted his chin to meet his eyes again.

“You’re beautiful, Cas,” Dean said. “So beautiful.”

Castiel kissed Dean again, with hunger this time. Dean kissed back with the same enthusiasm because he knew that hunger really well. Castiel moved his hands up Dean sides until they tangled behind Dean’s neck. They moved until they were completely horizontal on the couch, which was far too small for both of them. But somehow, they made it work. Castiel kissed down Dean’s neck, sucking on the sensitive skin below his ear. Dean dug his nails in Castiel’s back, and Castiel let out a long moan close to his ear.

Their lips crashed against each other again, with swift determination. Castiel rolled his hips, and Dean hissed when he felt Castiel’s erection against his own. Dean rolled his hips up, and they were both in sync. Dry humping had never really been Dean’s thing past his teenage years, but this was so hot he thought he would come in his pants. Castiel sucked on Dean’s lip again while bucking his hips down hard, and Dean moaned into him. Then, Dean found a better use of his hands. He grabbed Castiel’s ass tightly and pushed him down again while Dean pushed up. The friction was delicious. Dean moaned again, but Castiel’s bruising kiss swallowed the sound.

There was a sudden vibration between them. At first, Dean thought it was just part of their movements, but then he realized it was his cell phone. He was getting a call. Dean decided to ignore it, until he remembered that neither Sam or Mary had answered his text. With all of the pain in the world, Dean pushed Castiel away from his mouth. He knew it was a bad idea to stare at his kiss-swollen lips once he did, but it was hard not to look. Castiel looked stunning with his shirt open, hair in more of a mess than usual, and pupils dilated. Dean wished he didn’t have to stop, but he had to check his phone.

Dean pulled out the vibrating phone from his pocket and clicked the green button, reading Sam’s name on the screen. “Hello?” Dean sounded out of breath. He knew that, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Castiel pressed his forehead against Dean’s shoulder, his warm breath on his chest.

“Dean!” Sam sounded about as agitated as Dean, which wasn’t right. Dean tensed instantly. “Dean, you need to come to the ER at St. David’s. Mom couldn’t breathe with the oxygen tank. I didn’t know what to do so I called for an ambulance. She’s in intensive care. I don’t know what’s happening, Dean. I’m scared. I’m so scared.”

Castiel, close enough to hear Sam’s voice, stood up immediately, eyes wide with concern. Dean couldn’t find his voice at first. He stood and stared at Castiel, mouth open.

“I’ll be right there, Sammy,” Dean said, hanging up before he choked up on the phone. Sam didn’t need a crying Dean. He needed the strong, big brother Dean. “I…I have to go, Cas.”

“I can come with you. I’ll drive if you need me to.”

Dean shook his head. “No. No. You can’t. I have to deal with this on my own, alright? This has nothing to do with you.”

“Dean, please. I just want to help.”

“No.” Dean didn’t have the energy to raise his voice, but Castiel understood all the same.

Then Dean was gone.

♦

Sam was in the family waiting room of the ICU. His face was red with tears. Dean did his best to keep his own tears inside. He was the older brother. He had to be strong for the both of them.

“Dean!” Sam said, running to his arms like he had many times as a kid. Dean clutched him to his chest, even though Sam was a few inches taller. 

“Where’s Mom?” Dean asked, pulling back.

Sam wiped his cheeks, but it was pointless because the tears wouldn’t stop. “She’s still in the ICU. I was with her before they put her in a medically induced coma. She—she told me.” A loud sob came out of Sam. He was a little boy all over again. It was breaking Dean’s heart. “Dean. She told me she was dying.” Hiccup. “She looked—looked at me and she said goodbye.”

Dean swallowed his tears, and with his tears went his words. He had nothing to offer Sam except his arms. Sam clung to him as he cried on Dean’s shoulder. 

“Excuse me? Are you Mary Winchester’s family?”

Dean turned to the sound of the voice. It was a woman in a white coat who Dean assumed was a doctor. Beside her stood a chaplain in a black shirt. Dean could put two and two together. Dean nodded to her question.

“Her heart has stopped,” the doctor said. “We’re doing all we can to get it beating again. You can come into the room if you’d like, but she won’t look like the person you know.”

Dean had a big lump in his throat that prohibited him from speaking. Without looking at Sam, he nodded at the doctor again and followed her down the hall. He realized Sam was following him when they all reached the room. In it, Mary lay on the only bed, hands stiff at her sides. But that wasn’t the worst part. Dean took it all in at once—the tube sticking out of her mouth, the blood that had spurted out of it, the movement of her chest going up and down with every press to bring her back to life. Dean’s legs were no longer solid, but Sam was right beside him, so Dean held onto him. 

Mary was unconscious on the hospital bed, the monitor showing there was no pulse, but they still stood there waiting for a miracle to happen. Dean prayed to whoever would listen. God, Allah, Yahweh, Ganesha, Vishnu. Any variation of a deity that could save his mom. 

And then, the room went still. 

Someone called out, “Time of death 2:15 p.m.”

Then the doctor stood in front of Dean, explaining something about how her lungs had filled with fluid and they hadn’t been able to save her. She explained that Mary’s cancer had metastasized all over her body, and many others with her diagnosis had died in a similar situation. She explained that her heart had stopped, and that had been it. She also offered her condolences. 

Dean stood very still as the nurses that had been working on Mary left the room, one by one. Dean’s gaze was solely on Mary, even when the doctor told them that she would give them the room so they could say goodbye before they took her body downstairs. To the morgue.

Mary wasn’t going home anymore. She was going to the morgue.

Dean wasn’t crying, even though he could hear Sam crying and sobbing beside him. It was the weirdest thing. Dean didn’t want to cry anymore. It was all over. Mary’s pain was over. Her suffering had ended. 

Nirvana.

The word popped in his mind as Dean approached the lifeless body on the bed. Mary’s bald head was uncovered. Dean had the sudden urge to find her scarf somewhere. She wouldn’t want to be seen this way. Her eyes were closed, but a tear had fallen out. Dean brushed his thumb against it, wiping it away.

“Dean, I can’t,” Sam said. “I can’t see her this way.”

Dean nodded, and Sam was no longer at his side. Alone in the room now, Dean pulled up a chair and sat beside Mary’s body. She was no longer just Mary. She was now Mary’s body.

Dean blinked. 

Dean sighed.

Dean held onto her hand. Cold. Soft.

Dean did not cry.

♦

When Ellen, Bobby, and Jo arrived at the hospital, they pulled Dean out of the room and led him back to the waiting room. Dean wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting in that room, holding Mary’s cold hand that just kept getting colder. It wasn’t possible that she had been that cold from dying. She’d been cold before she died. The room had been too cold for her. And she’d been crying. Had she felt pain? Had she been sad? Dean would never know.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Ellen asked, cupping his face in her hands. Her eyes were red from crying. She’d called him sweetheart. Mary always called him sweetheart. Dean didn’t want to be called sweetheart at the moment, but he had no words.

Dean stared at her, blankly. He looked at Bobby, who was hugging Jo in his arms. They were both crying. Sam was sitting beside Dean, also crying. When Dean didn’t answer Ellen’s question, she moved on to Sam.

Luckily, Sam was able to speak. He had all the words that Dean had lost. Sam told her what had happened. He recalled the scene in the room, and how he had left because he couldn’t bear seeing Mary that way. He said he’d tried to get Dean to go with him, but Dean had ignored him. Dean couldn’t remember that.

Ellen handed Dean a cup of water, but Dean only stared at it. “Drink it, honey,” she said, softly.

Dean did. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but he did it anyway.

“I don’t want you boys to worry about the funeral or the burial preparations,” Bobby said. “I’m gonna take care of everything. Mary had a good insurance. All I need to do is make the calls.”

Dean hadn’t even thought about that. He couldn’t remember the last funeral he’d been to. It had been his dad’s. John had died so long ago. It could have been an entire lifetime ago.

And then, a thought occurred to Dean.

Dean and Sam were orphans. 

Thirty year old orphans.

♦

Three days had passed since Mary’s death. 

Dean hadn’t spoken in three days.

Dean had ignored all of his responsibilities. He couldn’t remember half of them. But his phone kept going off with phone calls and text messages and emails. He didn’t even have the energy to mute it. Sam was the one who eventually turned it off, so Dean could rest.

Mary’s funeral would be in two more days.

On Saturday.

Just two more days.

And then, what?


	8. Chapter 8

“Shall I write it in a letter? Shall I try to get it down?   
Oh, you fill my head with pieces   
of a song I can’t get out.”

-The Paper Kites,  _ Bloom _

The day before the funeral, Dean had a visitor.

Sam knocked on Dean’s door before entering. He stood there for a second. “Your professor’s here. What should I tell him?”

Dean sat up in his bed. “Cas,” he whispered.

Sam widened his eyes. Probably from the surprise of hearing Dean speak again.

Dean was as surprised as Sam looked. He’d been sure he’d forgotten how to speak. But then he did it again. “Cas is here.”

“Yeah, he’s here. Do you want to see him?”

Did Dean want to see Castiel? He wasn’t sure. Castiel would want to talk, and Dean was still getting used to the sound of his voice. It was raspy. 

Dean stared at his bedroom wall, as if he could see Castiel on the other side. Dean remembered the last time they were together. It was the last good memory he had before it all went to hell.

“I’ll…” Dean’s head was a jumbled mess. “I’ll come out.”

Sam nodded. He walked with him to the living room, which was empty. “I told him to wait outside. I didn’t want to let him in if you didn’t want him to come in.”

Dean tried to smile, but it was a feeble attempt. He sat on the couch, the one he’d shared with Mary during the many times they watched the  _ Mamma Mia! _ movies.

Sam stepped outside, and when he returned, it was with Castiel behind him. Castiel looked at Dean, concern written on his face, and then he looked at Sam. 

“I’ll be in my room,” Sam said. 

Castiel didn’t waste any time as he crossed the room and sat right next to Dean, worried eyes set on him. “Dean. I…I’m sorry for coming to your home. I didn’t know how else to reach you.”

Dean was grateful that the “I’m sorry” wasn’t followed by “for your loss” because he’d heard it so many times over the past few days that the words meant nothing anymore. He looked at Castiel, at his stubble, blue eyes, pink lips. The familiarity of him almost made Dean smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Castiel said. “I’m not going to ask how you are, because that’s a stupid question. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No,” Dean said. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.” Castiel nodded. “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” Dean said again. “I like that you’re here.”

Castiel smiled sideways, reaching for Dean’s hand, and then he held it tightly. He probably had no idea how comforting his touch was to Dean. “I notified the school about what happened. You have another week to take your final. If it were up to me, I’d just give you the grade, but I guess that wouldn’t be fair. Come see me whenever you’re ready.”

Dean nodded. Deep down, he knew part of him still cared about school. Mary had wanted Dean to do this. The whole college life. Dean was doing this for Mary. He couldn’t fail and let her down. “Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel cupped Dean’s cheek. “You don’t have to thank me. I just need you to be okay.”

Dean leaned into the touch. It was the best thing he’d felt in the past few days. “Cas.”

“Is this okay?” Castiel whispered, leaning closer.

Dean leaned in at the same time. Right before their lips met, though, they moved away at the clearing of a throat.

It was Sam, of course, standing in front of them. Hands crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised, silently passing judgement. “I wanted to ask if you guys wanted a drink. Did I interrupt something?”

Castiel smiled up at Sam. “I’d love a glass of water, thank you.”

Dean sighed. “I’ll have a coke.”

“Coming right up,” Sam said, heading to the kitchen.

Dean locked eyes with Castiel. “Sorry about that.”

Castiel shook his head. “Don’t apologize for your brother. I like him. He should be protective of you.”

“I’m a grown man,” Dean said. “I can protect myself. It’s not like you’re a giant bear who wants to eat me.”

Castiel smiled sideways, and Dean was reminded how much he loved that smile. 

Sam walked back into the living room, handing them their drinks before taking a seat on the recliner. “So, what’s going on here?”

“Cas and I were just talking,” Dean said.

“Really? Cause there was no talking going on when I walked in here,” Sam said.

Castiel turned his smile on Sam. “I’d like to properly introduce myself. My name is Castiel Novak.” He stretched his hand, and after a few seconds, Sam shook it. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Sam.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam said. “All I’ve heard about you is that you like to take my brother out on dates. Aren’t you his professor?”

“Sam,” Dean said.

Castiel blushed, but his gaze on Sam didn’t falter. “I am, or was, his professor. And I do agree that the times we were together felt more than simply platonic.”

“Cas, you don’t have to explain yourself,” Dean said.

“I don’t mind it, Dean,” Castiel said.

“No, I’d like to know what his intentions are,” Sam said. “Are professors allowed to go around kissing their students?”

“We weren’t kissing,” Dean said. “You interrupted us, remember?”

“So you  _ were _ going to kiss!” Sam said accusingly.

“To answer your question, no, I am not allowed to engage in any romantic relationship with my students,” Castiel said. “However, the semester has ended now, and as soon as Dean takes his final exam, he will no longer be my student.”

Dean looked at Castiel. “What does that mean?”

Castiel looked at Dean. “It means that I would very much like to date you once you aren’t my student anymore.”

Dean smiled. The first real smile since he lost his voice. “Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

“Okay,” Dean said, blinking. “Okay. Good. I’d like that.”

“It wasn’t so hard to guess that you were into each other,” Sam said. “But I’m glad it’s all out in the open now.” Sam looked at Castiel. “Don’t you hurt my brother.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but Castiel nodded solemnly. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Castiel said.

“Then we’ll get along great,” Sam said, smiling. 

Castiel seemed to relax at that. “I’m glad to hear that. I’d like to get to know you better, Sam.”

“Yeah, same here,” Sam said, standing up. “But it’ll have to be another day. I’m meeting Jo at the Roadhouse tonight for drinks. Do you guys want to join me?”

Despite the sudden lift of his spirits, Dean wasn’t in the mood to be around crowds of people. He was dreading the funeral tomorrow, but he knew he couldn’t get out of that. “No thanks.”

“I think I’ll keep Dean some company, if you don’t mind,” Castiel said.

“Fine by me,” Sam said. “I’m actually glad you’re here. I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

“I’m fine,” Dean said.

“Yeah? Well, you hadn’t talked for the past four days, so I’m sorry for being concerned for you.”

Dean did feel guilty about worrying Sam, but he hadn’t had it in him to say a single word. Not until Castiel arrived. And he knew he really shouldn’t put so much into one person, especially someone new, but Dean couldn’t help the way Castiel made him feel. Castiel had brought with him all of the good things in Dean’s life. Castiel had brought with him his smiles and Dean felt alive again.

“I’m okay,” Dean said, and this time he meant it.

_ _

♦

_ _

After Sam left, Dean and Castiel settled down on the couch to watch TV. They channel surfed until they found reruns of  _ Kitchen Nightmares _ and watched that. At first, Dean wasn’t sure how to behave around Castiel. They weren’t exactly dating yet, since Castiel had clarified that he wasn’t allowed to date his students. So, Dean figured he should keep his distance. But Castiel surprised him, when he suddenly turned to Dean and said, “Come here,” extending an arm in invitation.

Gladly, Dean pressed himself against Castiel’s side while Castiel draped an arm around him, pulling him close. Dean had his head on Castiel’s shoulder, and he smiled when he felt Castiel’s lips press against his head a few times. 

“I’ve really missed you,” Castiel said. With his free hand he grabbed Dean’s hand and laced their fingers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you after that kiss.”

Dean wished he could say the same, but he’d had other things clouding his mind recently. He could still see Mary’s body lying stiffly on that hospital bed. Dean tried to shake that memory off his mind, squeezing Castiel’s hand. “It was a good kiss, wasn’t it?”

Castiel chuckled, his warm breath on Dean’s hair. “It really was. I’m glad you initiated it. I didn’t want to assume that you wanted me the way I wanted you.”

Dean looked up at him, and he saw the sincerity in his eyes. “I thought I was being obvious. I lost track of the times you caught me staring at your mouth.”

Castiel pressed his lips to Dean’s forehead. “I hope this isn’t too weird for you, considering.”

“I think we’re way past the whole professor thing,” Dean said. “Although, technically you still are my professor.”

“Technically,” Castiel said. “But I’ll be tough on you when I grade your final, I promise.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “As if you could be tough on any of your students. You’re too nice.”

“I’m nice? I’m not nice.” Castiel sounded offended.

“You are,” Dean said. “You gave out chocolate on the first day of class.”

“That’s not being nice. It was a metaphor for the topic I was teaching.”

“It was chocolate, and it was nice. Just accept it.”

Castiel kissed Dean’s temple. “I can’t argue with you. You’re too stubborn.”

“Or maybe I’m right, and you know it, so you’re giving up.”

“Is that what’s happening?”

Dean nodded, trying to focus on why Gordon Ramsay was yelling at the restaurant owner. “I like that you’re nice. I like many things about you.”

They grew quiet for a while, watching the show. It felt like an everyday thing, for the two of them to be cuddled up on the couch watching  _ Kitchen Nightmares _ . It felt so natural to go from whatever they were before to whatever they were now. Dean could get used to this. To having Castiel right next to him, his arm around him, and his hand against his, his lips pressing soft kisses to his head and forehead and temple. It brought him joy that he hadn’t felt in so long.

Dean hadn’t realized he’d dozed off until Castiel shifted, trying to stand up, and it stirred Dean. He woke up with the image of Mary, bloody on the hospital bed, and his heart pounding. “What’s going on?” Dean asked, alarmed.

Castiel grabbed Dean’s hands in his, trying to get Dean to meet his eyes. “Nothing’s going on, Dean. I’m sorry I woke you. It’s late. I should get going.”

Dean stared into Castiel’s eyes, waiting for his heart to calm down. The worst had already happened. There was nothing else that could top how awful Dean had felt the day Mary died, shedding that final tear. Dean was with Castiel, and the worst had already happened. “Where’s Sam?”

“He came home a few minutes ago,” Castiel said. “He went to bed.”

Dean nodded. Everyone was safe. And the worst had already happened. “Okay. Okay. Um, are you sure you can drive home right now? I bet you’re tired.”

Castiel smiled sideways, one of his hands cupping Dean’s cheek. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me, but I’ll be fine.”

Dean nodded again. “I’ll take my final on Monday, okay? Then we can go on a real date.”

Castiel’s smile widened. “I’d like that.” Castiel swallowed, almost like he was nervous. His thumb caressed Dean’s cheek carefully. Dean had never been touched like this. So delicate. Gentle. It sent a shiver down his spine. “Can I kiss you?”

It wasn’t a question Dean had been expecting. But instead of answering it, Dean closed the distance between them and kissed Castiel on the mouth. He kissed him slowly because the night was quiet and it felt right. Castiel brought his other hand to the back of Dean’s neck and dug his fingers into Dean’s hair. Dean sighed against him.

When they pulled away, Dean leaned his forehead against Castiel’s. “You’re kind of irresistible, professor.”

Castiel chuckled. “Don’t remind me that we’re breaking so many rules at the moment.”

“It feels good to break them, though.”

Castiel pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Dean’s jaw. “It does.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, and Dean felt, for a second, that maybe Castiel didn’t really want to go. Dean wanted to invite him to stay, but he knew they couldn’t. Besides, Castiel would probably get the wrong idea. Dean didn’t want to rush anything between them. He cared about Castiel too much for that.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Dean said.

They kissed again at the door. Castiel held onto Dean’s hips, pulling him closer, and Dean wrapped his hands around Castiel’s neck. They fit so nicely together. Every kiss was so good. Dean almost couldn’t believe Castiel was real, and here, kissing him, bringing him back to life.

“I should go,” Castiel said against Dean’s lips.

“Okay,” Dean whispered, capturing his lips again.

Castiel finally broke the kiss, staring back at Dean as they both panted. Slowly, their hands untangled from each other. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, Cas.”

Long after Castiel had left, Dean lied awake on his bed. For the first time since Mary had died, Dean wasn’t awake because he kept seeing Mary when he closed his eyes. This time, it was because Dean couldn’t stop thinking about Castiel. About how good it was to kiss him and be kissed by him. About the softness of Castiel’s hands every time he touched him. About the promise of dating Castiel in the near future.

Dean thought, for the last time, that the worst had already happened. Maybe, just maybe, good things were coming.

_ _

♦

_ _

Mary’s funeral kicked Dean’s ass.

It hadn’t occurred to him how many sad, crying people would attend the event. There were distant relatives that Dean hadn’t seen for years, looking at him with sympathy and repeating the same phrases: 

“It’s such a shame she died so young.”

“She was such a good person.”

“She’ll be deeply missed.”

“If you need anything, let me know.”

And Dean’s personal favorite: “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Dean couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t bear to see another person crying. He couldn’t bear to see the lifeless body of his mother on display for everyone. If he’d been in charge, he wouldn’t have made this an open casket funeral, but he’d had no say in the matter. And it wasn’t like he could complain to Bobby who had taken care of everything. Bobby had done so much for them. 

Sam was good at the socializing thing. He thanked everyone who offered him the same sympathy. He hugged them. He cried with them. Sam was so much stronger than Dean.

Dean had given up smoking about ten years ago, but he had been itching for a cigarette. He stumbled outside of the funeral home, hoping to find someone smoking so he could ask for a smoke. There was no one outside. Maybe it was because it was cold enough for frostbite. Dean decided to stand outside for a while, at least until he felt brave enough to go back inside.

He had his arms folded and he was looking at his feet, thinking of nothing but the unbearable, assaulting cold. He heard the sound of footsteps on gravel. Someone was approaching, but Dean didn’t have the energy to greet them. They could just walk in.

But the footsteps stopped a few feet away from him.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean looked up to find none other than Castiel, in a big tan trench coat. His nose was a bit red from the cold. He had a green scarf around his neck. But Dean blinked, wondering if Castiel was really there, or if he’d started hallucinating. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam invited me yesterday,” Castiel said. “I hope it’s alright that I’m here.”

Dean wasn’t sure why, but seeing Castiel here made him feel just slightly lighter. “Yeah. I’m…glad you came.”

“You look cold. We should go inside.”

“Okay.”

Castiel held the door for Dean, and then followed him to the room with the open casket. They sat together, and Dean took a deep breath.

Five minutes hadn’t passed yet when Jo approached them. “Hi, Dean. Who’s your friend?”

Dean looked at Castiel, wondering how to introduce him. Was he his professor? His friend? His partner? Nothing felt appropriate. “This is…”

“My name is Castiel Novak.”

“I’m Jo,” she said, shaking his hand. “Jo Singer.”

“She’s my cousin,” Dean said.

“Ah. It’s very nice meeting you, Jo.”

Jo looked at Castiel for a few seconds, and then she widened her eyes. “Wait. Are you his professor? Professor Novak, right? Sam told me all about you.”

Castiel smiled. “That would be me, yes.”

“Are you and Dean, like, a thing now?” Jo asked.

“Jo, please,” Dean said.

“Sam told me you had a big crush on your professor,” Jo said.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course he did.”

“A big crush, huh?” Castiel asked, smiling sideways.

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand. “I suppose we are…a thing now.”

Dean couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Well, there you go.”

Jo grinned at them, but then narrowed her eyes at Castiel. “You better not break his heart. You hear me? I might be small, but I can punch real good.”

“I would never dream of it,” Castiel said.

“Alright, good,” Jo said. “I’ll see y’all later, then.”

“Jo’s right,” Dean said. “She can punch good. I’ll never make her mad again.”

“She’s pretty feisty. I like her.”

Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand. “Hey. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I knew this day would be hard on you, so I figured I should come to distract you.”

“You’re a great distraction.”

Castiel lifted their hands and kissed the back of Dean’s.

_ _

♦

_ _

On Monday, Dean found himself in Castiel’s office. It was a bit strange, coming back to this space, sitting across from Castiel, resuming their previous roles of professor and student. Castiel wasn’t really acting like his professor anymore, though. He was speaking in a quiet voice, asking about Dean’s well-being, and inviting him over to his place after he was done.

Dean was just ready to get the test over with. He already knew he’d made an A in his Feminism class. He didn’t even need a high grade on his final to get an A in his World Religions class, but he still wanted to do well on it. Castiel had promised to be fair in his grading, and not do Dean any favors. Dean wanted to be sure he earned his grades with hard work, not by getting his professor hot and heavy on the couch.

“Are you ready?” Castiel asked, pulling out the test from his messenger bag.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, professor,” Dean said.

Castiel smiled in return. After handing Dean the exam, he squeezed his shoulder and left him alone in his office.

The final was a piece of cake. Dean had spent hours studying for it. Granted, most of his studying had happened before he lost his mom, but he still remembered all of it. He was done within thirty minutes, even with the short answer section. Castiel never bothered with trick questions. All of them were straightforward and to the point. Dean appreciated that.

“You’re done?” Castiel asked once Dean opened the door to look for him. Castiel had been sitting right outside.

“All done,” Dean said. 

“Perfect. I’ll have it graded by tonight before you come over.” Castiel packed his bag and led Dean out of his office. The building was practically empty since it was winter break and the short winter semester hadn’t started yet. Castiel set his hands on Dean’s waist and leaned in for a kiss. One, two, three. Dean knew they couldn’t get carried away at school, so he did his best to keep it light. 

“What time should I come over?” Dean asked once they pulled away.

Castiel pressed his lips to the corner of Dean’s jaw. “Around 7:30. Will that be alright?”

Dean nodded, shivering when Castiel nipped his earlobe. He pulled Castiel in by his belt loops. “Should I bring anything?”

Castiel looked him in the eye. “Just yourself. I’ll be waiting.” With a final, teasing kiss to Dean’s lips, Castiel was gone.

And Dean took a few steadying breaths before he could move again.

_ _

♦

_ _

While Dean waited to meet Castiel, he put on Mary’s Queen records. Sam was at work, so Dean was alone. He knew how masochistic it was to sit alone at home listening to his dead mom’s records, but he needed to feel close to her somehow. This was the only thing he could think of.

So, Dean sat on the couch as Freddie Mercury sang about  _ this thing called love _ . The familiar song jolted something in Dean. In a flash, Dean was reminded of the question he’d long ago been curious about, the one he’d never asked Mary. 

The question burned inside him, making him angry and sad and disappointed all at the same time. Dean had never asked Mary why she believed in love when John had died so young. Dean had put off the question for years, thinking he’d ask Mary one day. That day never came.

_I Want to Break Free_ came on next, and Dean completely lost it at _but life still goes on._ _I can’t get used to living without, living without, living without you by my side. I don’t want to live alone._

The dam broke and Dean cried. And it was ugly crying, full of sobs and breathless heaves. The tears flowed out of him and all he could do was hug a pillow to his chest as it happened. He cried and cried and cried, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this long and hard. The realization of losing Mary felt like a thousand-pound weight had just dropped on top of him, and he would never be strong enough to remove it. All at once, he felt burned by the weight and by the complete emptiness inside him. Mary was gone. She was never coming back. Dean would never again have a chance to talk to her. Not about the important things, or the unimportant ones. 

Dean cried so long that his eyes were burning. He curled up into himself, feeling like a small boy who was lost at a grocery store and couldn’t find his mom. Dean felt lost. He felt impossibly lost and he just wanted his mom back.

The tears had slowed down, and his sobs had subsided. But still, beneath that fogginess of grief, Dean longed to hear the sound of Mary’s voice again. He pulled out his phone to check his voicemails, but since it had been recently cleared, none of her voicemails were there. Dean was contemplating smashing his phone against a wall when he remembered Sam’s annoying camera every time he shot his vlogs. Dean pulled up YouTube and searched for Sam’s channel. It wasn’t hard to find. Sam’s YouTube channel was called Sam the Lawyer. So creative.

Dean scrolled through all of the videos. The last one he’d posted was from a week and a half ago, and it was called “Come Jog with Me.” Dean went further back until he found one called “Meet My Mom.” Dean clicked on that one as fast as he could.

Sam introduced the video to his viewers, telling them he had been requested to make this video interviewing his mom, so he was finally doing it. The next shot was of Mary on the couch, wearing her favorite purple scarf on her head. She looked tired, but her smile was genuine. She was looking behind the camera at Sam.

“Say hi, Mom,” Sam said, out of shot.

Mary waved her hand. “Hello, complete strangers.” 

Dean chuckled through the new set of tears that fell. God, he really missed her. It was ridiculous how jealous he was of the past version of himself who still had a mom. 

“Are you prepared to answer some hard-hitting questions?” Sam asked, going to sit next to her. 

Mary sighed. “I guess. Am I getting paid for this?”

Sam wrapped her up in a hug. “Yes. With lots of love.”

Mary groaned. “That’s not gonna buy me more Queen records.”

“I’ll buy you all the Queen records you want,” Sam said, letting her go.

“Alright. We’re good, then.” Mary grinned. 

“Why don’t we start there? Tell me about Queen.”

Mary looked as excited as she always did when talking about her favorite band. She talked about going to see them when they toured the U.S. with John, and how they fell in love during the song  _ Crazy Little Thing Called Love _ . 

“Wait, what do you mean you fell in love during that song?” Sam asked. “How does that happen?”

“I don’t know if that’s how it happened for your dad, but I’ll tell you how it happened to me. The band started playing  _ Crazy Little Thing Called Love _ . Freddie Mercury played the guitar and he did it so well. But I wasn’t looking at the band anymore. I looked at your dad, and saw him dancing. I don’t think you remember this, but John was not big on dancing. He hated it. I think he was just shy. But that day, he danced. It was the cutest thing. Just a little shake of his hips. When he caught me staring, he got all red, which made him more adorable. You know what I did? I laughed. I laughed at him because I knew there was no going back for me. I loved that man so much. No matter what happened from that point forward, I knew that would never change. And to this day, it hasn’t. I still love your father with all my heart.”

Dean let out a long breath, hitting pause on the video. He had his answer. He had all of these videos, at least twenty of them, where he could see Mary over and over again. He cried again, but this time it was from laughter.

**Dean:** _Thanks, Sammy. I love you. Bitch._

**Sam: ** _ I love you too? _

_ _

♦

_ _

Even though Castiel had told Dean not to bring anything, Dean had picked up a bottle of wine. Castiel took it from Dean before kissing his lips in greeting. A high string of barks came from the hallway, and a tiny dog came running towards Dean, crashing into his shins. It was a white and brown beagle puppy. Dean raised an eyebrow to Castiel. That had definitely not been here before.

Castiel chuckled, looking down at the puppy who was wagging an excited tail as he moved all around Dean’s legs. “So, Charlie’s beagle had puppies. Apparently, she couldn’t keep them in her apartment, so she coerced me into adopting one of them. I’ve never actually owned a pet before. She doesn’t even have a name.”

Dean pitied the nameless puppy, so he picked her up, and she started licking his face. Dean tried to push her away, but she was insistent. “How long have you had her?”

“She brought her this morning before I went to campus.” Castiel disappeared with the bottle of wine and returned with two full glasses. “Dinner is almost ready, but I figured we could sit down and have a drink first.”

“Sure.” Dean sat on the couch, placing the puppy on his lap. She cuddled up, closed her eyes, and sighed. “I think she’s taking a nap on me.”

Castiel sat beside him and tilted his head. “I never thought I’d envy a dog.”

Dean rolled his eyes, taking one of the glasses. He took a sip. “You should name her Sophie.”

“What?”

“The puppy. You should name her Sophie.”

Castiel seemed to consider it. “I like Sophie. Where’d the name come from?”

Dean smiled, bringing a hand behind Sophie’s ear to scratch her. “ _ Mamma Mia! _ Look, don’t judge me. My mom made me watch both movies at least a hundred times. And Sophie’s cool. She has the best voice, too.”

“I’ve never seen the films, but I’ll take your word on that.” Castiel smiled sideways, taking a sip. “Thanks for naming her. I was going to keep calling her pup for the rest of time.”

“Sam and I had a few dogs growing up. We would take them out for walks and wash them in the backyard. It was fun. I miss having one of these.”

Castiel looked at Dean. “Do you want her?”

“What? No, Cas. She’s yours. I’m not gonna take your dog away from you.”

“I don’t mind.”

“No. I couldn’t.”

“How about joint-custody, then?”

Dean threw his head back in laughter, and Sophie stirred from her deep sleep. He scratched her belly. “What would that make us? A divorced couple?”

“No, of course not. But it would make me very happy to know Sophie will have at least one parent who knows how to properly take care of her. What do you say?”

Dean looked at Sophie, tongue sticking out as her belly continued being scratched. It was tempting, having a dog in his life again. Someone he could take care of. And maybe it didn’t have to be a big deal that he was jumping into this relationship with Castiel and his adorable puppy. “Alright. I guess we’re co-parents now.”

Castiel beamed. “I guess we are.”

A few minutes later, they moved to the dining table for dinner. Castiel had made pizza. Dean had never had homemade pizza before, but as soon as he took a bite, he felt he’d been missing out on something remarkable his entire life.

“How does this taste better than Domino’s?”

“I’m a great chef,” Castiel said, smirking.

“You’re so smug, look at you.”

Castiel looked away, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I like playing around in the kitchen. I’m just glad all my time practicing has paid off.”

“Well, I’ll have you know, I’m also good in the kitchen. And I can make pie. Family recipe.” Dean smiled, remembering the day not so long ago when Mary had taught him and Sam to make apple pie. The memory kept playing over and over, and it never failed to make him smile.

“I’d love to taste your pie, Dean.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Why did that sound absolutely filthy coming out of your mouth?”

Castiel laughed so hard he snorted, and Dean laughed along with him. “I wasn’t trying to seduce you, I promise. I think it’s just having you here, knowing we’re on our first date, that’s making me sound like I have ulterior motives. I don’t…unless you want me to?”

Dean bit his lip. “Would I be ruining the moment if I said I wanted to take things slow? I…I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time. I’m talking years, Cas. And I like you. I want to show you that I’m serious about us. I don’t want this to feel rushed because, honestly, I think you’re worth more than that.”

Castiel looked like Dean had told him the best thing he’d ever heard in his life. “Dean. You’re incredible, you know that? I want that, too. I want to get to know you better, before I get to  _ know _ you better.”

“In the Biblical sense, you mean.”

“Yes, Dean. In the Biblical sense. Like Adam and Steve.”

Wine nearly spilled out of Dean’s nose. “I never thought I’d hear that coming from you, my World Religions professor who thinks religion is sacred.”

“I do think religion is sacred, but having grown up very Catholic, I think I can make fun of it a little bit.”

“That’s fair. So, are you still Catholic? I know you mentioned going to church before.”

For the first time since Dean had arrived, Castiel looked uncomfortable. Dean wondered why that was. He thought religion was a safe topic for them. “Uh, no. I’m not Catholic anymore. Do you want more wine?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Castiel refilled their glasses, and then he switched the conversation to Sophie. “I know this might sound stupid, but I’m genuinely clueless about this. How many times a day should I feed her?”

“Oh, Cas. I’m going to teach you everything you’ll need to know because I’m not raising this beautiful dog by myself.”

That was why, fifteen minutes later, they found themselves at PetSmart, stocking up on all things Sophie. Dean picked out a bed, a bunch of chew toys, the highest-rated dog food, and Snoopy bowls for her to drink and eat out of.

“This seems a bit excessive,” Castiel said as they packed their bags in the trunk of his car.

“Our daughter deserves only the best, Cas. Get used to it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dean winked, and Castiel rolled his eyes. They were going to be great dog parents.

When they got back to the house, Sophie was playing with one of the ornaments from the Christmas tree in the living room. It wasn’t a real tree, which was good because it was overflowing with colorful lights and Castiel admitted he never turned it off. Dean wondered how Castiel had made it this long without him.

But since they were officially taking things slow, Dean kept that thought to himself.

Castiel traded one of the chew toys for the ornament, which was the only way Sophie would give it up. “She’s going to try to eat my tree, isn’t she?”

“She might,” Dean admitted, “which is why you should get a gate to keep her away from certain rooms.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this at the store?”

Dean shrugged. “I got distracted by the chew toys.”

“So, what should I do tonight if I can’t leave her to sleep out here?”

Dean crossed his arms and looked down at Sophie, who was running around in circles with her chew toy. “I could stay here tonight. On the couch. Just to make sure she doesn’t knock down the tree and suffocate underneath it. Tomorrow we can get the gate and just let her sleep in the hallway.”

“You want to sleep on my couch?” Castiel asked. “I always imagined the first time you slept over a little differently.”

Dean huffed. So had he. “I know, but it’s the best option for tonight. What do you say?”

Castiel took a deep breath. “Let’s do this, partner.”

Dean liked Castiel. He really, really liked him.

_ _

♦

_ _

Sometime in the night, Sophie had jumped on the couch and curled up on the softness of Dean’s stomach. Dean was half-awake for that, and he knew he should make her sleep in her bed, but he was too tired to reprimand her. Instead, he made sure she was warm under the blanket they were now sharing, and went back to sleep.

Dean woke up to the smell of bacon. It startled him awake because he knew Sam very rarely cooked a fancy breakfast, so his mind went straight to Mary. She wasn’t supposed to be cooking. 

As soon as he was up on his feet, staring at a Christmas tree in a home that wasn’t his own, it all came back to him. Reality was bitter most mornings. The realization that Mary couldn’t be in the kitchen making breakfast because Mary was dead was one of the worst things to wake up to. But this wasn’t the first time it’d happened. It wasn’t getting any easier with time. 

“Good morning, sweet thing,” Castiel’s voice called from the kitchen.

Dean felt himself relax at the sound of Castiel’s voice, and he made his way to him. Castiel looked like a dream in a plain white T-shirt and black boxer briefs, flipping pancakes. Dean couldn’t remember the last time someone other than his mom made him breakfast.

“Too much?” Castiel asked. “I wasn’t serious about the pet name. I just thought it would be funny.”

“Okay,  _ sugar _ ,” Dean said. He shifted awkwardly on his feet. He wasn’t sure if he should offer to help or let Castiel work alone. He wouldn’t mind helping. He was good in the kitchen. Then again, so was Castiel.

Before Dean could make up his mind, Castiel said, “Go get ready for breakfast, honey. I got everything covered.”

“Are these fake pet names supposed to make me think of diabetes?” Dean asked.

Castiel laughed. “Sure.”

Dean liked seeing Castiel laughing first thing in the morning. He liked seeing him in his sleeping clothes, flipping pancakes like a pro. And then he realized he’d lost Sophie. “Shit. Where’s the dog?”

“Spoiled thing got in my room this morning. She’s in my bed.”

“I thought I squished her through the night.”

“At least she didn’t cry all night. Charlie warned me that could happen. Separation anxiety and all that.”

Dean nodded. “Well, maybe we’re good parents.”

Castiel smiled. “Maybe.”

_ _

♦

_ _

After breakfast, Dean went home. Castiel promised he’d stop to pick up a gate for Sophie in the afternoon. Dean figured he should stop by the shop and do some work. He’d been neglecting his business lately. Bobby had been kind enough to take over while Dean processed what had happened. But Dean knew he would probably never finish processing the death of his mother, so maybe he should go back to work soon.

Castiel sent him off with a deep kiss, making it harder for Dean to leave, especially when Sophie barked for him to stay.

When Dean got home, Sam was digging through his own closet. His bed was entirely filled with his clothes, and the floor with his shoes. Dean stood in the doorway, watching him toss out the last remaining items on the floor by his feet.

“Can I ask what you’re doing or should I just ignore it?” Dean said.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Sam said, glancing up at Dean quickly before tripping over a pair of shoes. “Crap.”

Dean tried hard not to laugh. “I have time for a long story.”

“Hey, are you just getting home?”

“Yeah. I spent the night at Castiel’s. No, don’t give me that look. Nothing happened. We’re taking it slow.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Except, we’re sort of raising a cute little puppy together. Her name’s Sophie.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t even know where to get started with that, so I’ll just say this. Who are you trying to fool? Taking it slow, and adopting a puppy together? Those two things don’t correlate.”

“I’m just helping him out. He doesn’t know the first thing about owning a dog.”

Sam sighed, searching through the mess on the bed until he found a brown shirt and tossed it over his shoulder. “And you do? The last dog we had was when Dad was still alive.”

“Look, Sammy, this is happening. You can’t talk me out of it. Wait until you see her. She’s going to steal your heart.”

“Speaking of, did you steal my purple shirt?”

“ _ No, _ ” Dean said, offended by the question. “I can’t fit into your shirts anymore. You’re huge.”

“Well, I can’t find it anywhere and I wanted to wear it tonight.”

Dean snorted. “For what? You have a date or something?”

Sam looked at Dean, a bit shyly. “Maybe.”

“Really?” Dean made a beeline to Sam’s bed and sat on top of all his clothes, ignoring Sam’s groan. “You know I gotta hear all the details now, don’t you? Come on. Spit it out.”

Sam shook his head, but then he sat on the floor, surrounded by his shoes, and gave in. “Her name’s Jess. She’s a nurse. She’s my age. We like a lot of the same things. And she has a YouTube channel where she gives health tips.”

“Where’d you meet her?”

Sam hesitated. “I haven’t technically met her yet.”

Dean waited for Sam to explain, but he didn’t, so Dean said, “What the hell does that mean?”

“Look, Dean, I know you’re old—”

Dean glared at him.

“Old school!” Sam clarified. “This is going to sound weird to you, but we sort of met on YouTube. She commented on my videos, and I commented on hers. We recently found out we both live in Austin, so we’re going to meet in person for the first time. I really like her, Dean, and I won’t let you ruin this for me.”

Dean laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, dude, I’m not ruining anything. I think she sounds cool. Show me one of her videos. I wanna see this girl.”

Sam’s eyes lit up, and he pulled out his phone and searched for her. Then he sat beside Dean and hit play. Jess was beautiful. She was wearing pink scrubs in the video in front of a white screen. She was talking about how to perform a breast exam. She had curly blonde hair and a kind smile. But the best part was seeing the way Sam looked at her, with complete adoration.

“She definitely seems worthy of dating my baby brother,” Dean said. “Also, good tips. Now I know where to check for bumps.”

“Isn’t she amazing?”

“Yeah, yeah. Where are you guys meeting?”

“We’re meeting at the Roadhouse, and from there we’re going to see a movie where we’ll also have dinner. She’s really into horror films, so we’re going to see the new slasher film that’s out. I don’t even know what it’s called, but I’m excited.”

“Look at you, letting her pick the movie. You never let me pick the movies we watch.”

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“Good for you, Sammy.” Dean bumped their shoulders. “I wanna hear all the details tomorrow morning.”

Sam blushed, pocketing his phone. Then he cleared his throat. “Are you sure you didn’t steal my purple shirt?”

“Why do you always assume the worst of me?”

“So, can I go check your closet?”

“Go ahead,” Dean said, leading Sam to his closet. “Take a look. You’ll see I don’t have it. Unlike you, I know how to respect other people’s belongings and—”

Sam held out his purple shirt, raising his eyebrows. “You were saying?”

Dean grinned. “Oh. That shirt. Yeah, I borrowed that one a while back.”

Sam flicked Dean’s nose on his way out, and Dean chased him around the house for fifteen minutes to retaliate. But in the end, they both tripped on Sam’s shoes and got some nasty bruises.

Worth it.


	9. Chapter 9

“I’ll miss you,  
kiss you,   
give you my coat when you are cold.”

-Adam Sandler, _ Grow Old With You _

Being back at work was better than Dean had imagined. Not many things in his life gave him as much satisfaction as working on cars. He waited until his stomach was growling in protest to stop on the Mitsubishi he was working on, and went to the breakroom. 

It appeared that most of his employees were taking their lunch at the same time because Dean found Bobby, Ash, Benny, and Kevin in the breakroom. He went straight to the vending machine, digging out his wallet for a dollar.

“You hungry, son?” Bobby asked. “We ordered food.”

Dean looked over and saw Whataburger bags on the table. “You guys got burgers?”

“We brought some for you,” Benny said, lifting one of the bags. “Thought you might need it.”

Dean grabbed the bag, narrowing his eyes. “Is this a pity lunch?”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “You would think that.”

“It’s your favorite, boss,” Ash said.

Dean sat down and ate a fry. “Thanks. I _ was _ hungry.”

“How you been doing?” Benny asked, sipping his drink.

Dean sighed. “Good, all things considered. Sammy’s going on a date tonight, so I think he’s doing good, too.”

“How about you?” Benny smiled. “You going on any dates?”

Dean snorted, wondering if Sam—or worse, Jo—had already told everyone about Castiel. “You guys know me better than that. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“We all saw that really handsome gentleman with you at the funeral,” Kevin said. “We’ve all been wondering who he is. We’re pretty sure Bobby knows, but he won’t spill.”

Bobby locked eyes with Dean, and rolled his eyes. 

Dean grinned. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“I ain’t a gossip,” Bobby said, taking a bite of his burger.

“Come on, Dean, give us something,” Ash said. “We all really want to know.”

Dean shook his head. “I knew this free lunch was a setup.”

“What’s his name?” Kevin asked, edging closer on the table.

Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to give out all of the very private details of his brand-new relationship. It wasn’t because he was ashamed of how it started or anything. But Castiel felt so new and so good and he didn’t want to jinx it, or whatever. Another part of him, though, wanted to share him with his friends. Dean hadn’t been this excited about someone in a long time.

“His name’s Castiel,” Dean said. “Or Cas. He’s—he was my professor. Now he’s not. And that’s about it.”

Kevin groaned. “Are you serious? You’re not going to give us anything else?”

“What else do you wanna know?” Dean frowned.

“Well, it’d be nice to know how you started dating your professor,” Kevin said. “That seems like a good start.”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know. We used to hang out, and then one day I kissed him, and now we’re a couple. We’re also co-parenting a beagle named Sophie.”

Ash laughed. “You guys already have a pet together? Damn, Dean. You’re really in this, aren’t you?”

“Older people tend to move faster than most couples,” Kevin said.

“Excuse me?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. Why did everyone insist on calling him old?

“Hey, he’s right,” Benny said. “Us old guys know we don’t have a lot of time left, so when we find the one, we move fast.”

“Alright, let’s get a few things clear here,” Dean said. “One: I’m not old. Two: Cas and I are not moving fast just because we have a dog. And three: I’m not telling any of you anything else, so shut up about it, and let me eat my burger in peace.”

Bobby clapped Dean’s shoulder, getting to his feet. “Good for you, son. Glad to hear you’re happy. I’ll see you out there, idjits.”

“Okay, okay,” Ash said. “Let’s just drop it, guys.”

Kevin smirked. “I just hope we all get invited to the wedding.”

Dean glared at Kevin as he ate his burger, unable to say anything with his mouth full. _ Damn him _.

Benny laughed. “You know we’re just over the moon knowing our fearless leader has finally found love. In a hopeless place.”

Before Dean could say anything, his phone rang. He blushed as soon as he saw Castiel’s name on the screen. Speak of the devil.

“Who’s calling you, Dean?” Kevin asked. “Is it the boyfriend?”

“Shut up,” Dean hissed, standing up. “But yeah.”

The guys all cheered for him as Dean left the room to answer the call. He went into his office for some privacy. Not that it really mattered anymore.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Dean. I hope I’m not getting you at a bad time.”

Dean smiled. “No. You kind of saved me from my friends.”

“Oh, good. I was wondering if you’d checked your grade online.”

“Shit,” Dean said. “I knew I forgot to do something. I didn’t fail, did I?”

Castiel chuckled, and it was a nice sound, even over the phone. “Of course not. You made an A in my class. I wanted to congratulate you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean grinned. Two A’s in one semester. Not bad. “I can’t believe I finished the semester already.”

“Have you picked your classes for next semester yet?”

“Not yet. I’ll probably do that sometime this week. I’m thinking about enrolling full-time in the spring semester, so I’ll be taking four or five classes. Maybe just four to start.”

“That’s great, Dean. I’m glad to hear you’re enrolling full-time.” Castiel got quiet for a moment. “Do you think I could come over tomorrow night? I have something to give you, and a bit of bad news.”

Dean, ever the pessimist, went straight to the worst. “Do you have cancer?”

“What? No, Dean, that’s not what I meant when I said I had bad news. It’s not as bad as cancer, trust me.”

“Can’t you tell me now? I won’t stop thinking about it.”

Castiel sighed. “I have to go out of town for the holidays. My family is insisting that I pay them a visit in Colorado for both Christmas and the new year. Apparently, I’ve been away far too long and they’ve guilted me into spending time with them. I’m leaving Thursday.”

Dean frowned, trying to remind himself that this wasn’t as bad as anything else Dean could have come up with. But it was still bad. At least for Dean. He wasn’t really looking forward to the holidays, but he was definitely looking forward to spending more time with Castiel. “Okay. It’s good to be with family, Cas. Don’t worry about me. You should be with them now.”

“I wanted to be with you for Christmas,” Castiel said, and Dean ached when he heard the sincerity in his voice. “I wanted to kiss you at midnight on New Year’s Eve.”

Dean closed his eyes, because fuck, he wanted all those things now, too. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I know, baby. I’ll miss you, too.”

Dean swallowed. He liked being called “baby” so, so much, it was ridiculous. He cleared his throat. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“Yes. I’m bringing Sophie. She’ll need to stay with you while I’m gone.”

“Right, yeah, bring her over. I’ll see you later, then.”

“See you, Dean.”

♦

Dean was still awake when he heard Sam coming home around midnight. He considered getting out of bed just to interrogate him about his date, but decided to wait until breakfast. So, the next morning, Dean prepared a big breakfast consisting of waffles _ and _ pancakes, with eggs, hash-browns, and bacon. He went all out.

Sam looked impressed when he walked into the kitchen, staring warily at Dean, who was at the table sipping coffee. “What’s all this for? Are we having guests over?”

Dean shook his head, setting down his mug. “Nope. Just you and me, Sammy. Have a seat.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He started filling up the empty plate that was left out for him, never taking his eyes off of Dean. “Why are you acting so creepy this morning?”

“I’m just being a nice big brother,” Dean said. “I’m offended.”

Sam bit into a strip of bacon. “Hmm.”

Dean rolled his eyes, dropping the act. “Am I gonna have to beg? Tell me about your date last night. What happened? You came home at midnight, you slut.”

Sam scowled. “That’s not a very feminist word, Dean.”

Dean felt a little guilty about using the word as soon as he said it. “Fine. I take it back. But spill it. I want all the details.”

“You made me this huge breakfast to bribe me?” Sam tisked. “Come on, Dean. I would have told you everything without this.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “How’d it go, then?”

Sam smiled. “I’m not telling you anything until I finish eating.”

Dean groaned, pointing his fork at Sam. “I fucking hate you.”

“You love me, you jerk. But hey, thanks for breakfast. It’s good. It’s like when…” Sam trailed off, glancing at the empty seat at the head of the table. Neither of them finished that sentence, but they were both thinking the same thing. They hadn’t had such an elaborate breakfast together since Mary passed away. 

Wanting to take their minds off of that train of thought, Dean blurted out, “Cas is going out of town for the holidays.”

“Really? Where?”

“Colorado. He’s visiting his family.”

“Are you sad that your boyfriend is leaving?”

Dean knew Sam was expecting a witty comeback from him, but Dean didn’t have one ready. Instead, he said, “Yeah, kinda.”

“You really like him, don’t you?”

“He’s great,” Dean said, automatically. “Cas makes me happy. You know I haven’t tried dating since Lisa. When she left me, I thought I would never want anyone the way I wanted her. But when I think of Cas, the way he smiles at me sometimes, I can’t remember ever feeling that way about anyone.”

“Have you told him this?”

“No. I don’t wanna scare him off.”

Sam sighed. “Dean, you won’t scare him by being honest. Communication is important. When Lisa left, you said you didn’t see it coming. You and her never talked about the important stuff. You kept it all bottled up inside. I just don’t want you to ever go through that again, Dean.”

Maybe Dean was being naïve, but he trusted Castiel.

Trusted him enough not to hurt him.

“Okay, I’m ready to tell you about my date with Jess,” Sam said, putting his dirty dish on the sink. He refilled his cup with orange juice and sat back at the table. 

“Quit stalling,” Dean said, when he realized Sam was just going to sit and stare at Dean to get on his nerves.

Sam smiled. “Alright. So, we met at the Roadhouse. Had a few drinks. Jo wasn’t there, thank God.”

“Lucky bastard,” Dean said. Jo was great, but if she saw Sam on a date, she would interrogate the hell out of the poor girl. Jo had no sense of boundaries. 

“Anyway, Jess laughed at all of my jokes, even the dumb ones. I was nervous, but she let me hold her hand when we walked to the car. We saw the movie, and she kept hiding her face behind my shoulder. Apparently, liking horror films doesn’t mean she doesn’t get scared of them. She was adorable, though. After the movie, I walked her to her car, and we kissed.”

Dean punched Sam’s arm, playfully. “There you go!”

Sam actually blushed. “We’re going on a second date the day after Christmas.”

“Really? How come?”

“Well, Christmas is this weekend, and she’ll be with her family, so we’ll hang out after.”

Dean shrugged. “It’s not like we have any plans.”

Sam gave him a look. “Did you forget we’re going over to Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen’s? We go every year.”

Dean wasn’t looking forward to Christmas this year. For obvious reasons. Without Mary, what was the point of celebrating anything?

“Dean, we’re celebrating Christmas,” Sam said, as though he’d read his mind. “We’re not going to stay here and sulk. I won’t let you do this.”

“Fine, fine,” Dean said. “We’ll just put on big smiles and pretend nothing’s changed.”

“I hate that she’s gone too, Dean. Don’t you think I hate it? Don’t you think I miss her every day? Don’t you think I wish she could come back to us somehow? I watch the videos I took of her all the time, just to hear her voice. I don’t care that they make me cry. I watch them because I miss her so badly it hurts.”

Dean stared at Sam, wide-eyed. In all his mourning, he hadn’t stopped to think about how losing Mary had affected Sam. He couldn’t believe how selfish he’d been. Of course Sam was breaking apart as much as Dean. And instead of comforting him, Dean was just being difficult. 

Dean didn’t have the words to comfort Sam, though. So, he did all he could. He got up and hugged him, and they stayed like that for a while, even with the awkward angle. 

♦

When Castiel showed up, Dean was just finishing up with dinner. The barbecue chicken was cooling on the counter and Sam was still working on the iced tea. Castiel was carrying Sophie in his arms, and he set her down as soon as the door closed behind him. Sophie ran to the living room and made herself comfortable on the couch.

“Hi,” Castiel said, handing Dean a big bag. “I brought all of her chew toys, her food and food bowls, and her collar and cord. I got the last two yesterday.”

“Thanks.” Dean set the bag down on the floor, but before he led Castiel to the living room, Castiel took Dean’s hand in his and squeezed it.

“I brought something for you too,” Castiel said, smiling sideways. “Can we sit?”

Dean narrowed his eyes, wondering why Castiel had even bothered. They sat on the couch, next to a sleeping Sophie. Castiel pulled out a gift from his coat and handed it to Dean. It was a bit heavy, wrapped in shiny red paper. “What’s this for?”

“Christmas,” Castiel answered, simply. “I got it for you a few months ago. I wasn’t sure when to give it to you since you were still my student then. But after all that’s happened, I think it’s an appropriate Christmas gift. Open it. I hope you like it.”

Dean hadn’t bothered to get Christmas gifts for anyone this year. When he agreed to go to Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen’s for Christmas, he bought gift cards for everyone. Now he felt like the worst person for not getting Castiel a real gift. 

“I didn’t get this to guilt you into getting me anything,” Castiel said, reading Dean’s face. He lifted Dean’s chin with a gentle hand. “I just got it because when I saw it, I thought of you.”

Dean nodded, tearing the wrapping paper apart. Dean gasped when he saw the title _ On the Road _ in the middle of a black hardcover book that looked worn, but not ugly. It was an edition Dean had never seen before. His copy of the book was one he got for two dollars at Half-Price Books. Dean opened the book and flipped through the old pages, getting the pleasant old-book smell he loved. “Cas. This is amazing.”

“Do you like it?” There was hopefulness in Castiel’s voice that Dean didn’t miss.

“It’s awesome. Is this a first edition?”

“Yes.” Castiel bit his lip. “I decided to read it again, and I can see why you love it so much. Dean Moriarty is quite a complex character.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, he really is.” Dean ran his fingers over the book, knowing he would cherish this copy for the rest of his life. No matter what. “Cas, you really didn’t have to do this.”

Castiel kissed the corner of Dean’s lips. “I did have to. Because you love this book, which means it’s important. I wanted you to have it.”

“All I got you was a Target gift card.”

“Perfect. I love Target.”

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Castiel hugged him back just as tightly. 

“I hope you know how much you mean to me, Dean Winchester,” Castiel whispered into his ear.

Dean pressed his lips to Castiel’s neck. There were things Dean wanted to tell Castiel. He wanted to tell him that he cared about him a lot too. Way, way more than Dean had ever imagined. Probably more than he was ready to admit. But Dean was better at showing his affection, instead of speaking it. So he kissed Castiel’s jaw, forehead, temple, and lips.

♦

The three of them ate dinner, and Dean felt oddly like the third-wheel. As soon as Castiel brought up Aristotle—he had to study him for his lectures in the upcoming semester—Sam jumped in to add how much he disliked the philosopher for being incredibly misogynistic, and Castiel couldn’t agree more.

Dean knew next to nothing about Aristotle, or Plato for that matter, so he ate and watched as Sam and Castiel bonded over their hatred of important-but-shitty men.

After dinner, Sam exchanged numbers with Castiel, and then took Sophie to his room to work on a case. Dean protested about Sophie, but Sam just said, “Nope, I get to play with her,” and closed his door.

Dean and Castiel settled down on the couch. Castiel put _ The Office _ on Netflix, which Dean had seen plenty of times before, but it was good background noise as he searched for classes for the spring semester. Dean took up most of the couch, setting his legs over Castiel’s lap as he concentrated on his laptop screen. This felt good and comfortable and Dean was happy. Castiel made him happy, just being here with him.

Dean was smiling as he searched through philosophy courses. He knew he needed to take some basic courses, a.k.a. the boring stuff like math and science, so he would only take one philosophy course this semester. The title of a particular class popped out, and he stared at the screen for a good ten seconds before he said, “Castiel Novak, you’re teaching Sex in the Bible?”

“Huh?” Castiel asked, distracted as he watched Michael Scott embarrass himself yet again. 

“Sex in the Bible? How the hell is that even a class?”

“Oh, yes. I’m actually looking forward to that one. It’s not as crass as it sounds. I’ll mostly be teaching out of the Torah, the Jewish text, and we’ll be focusing on the power dynamics that exist in different relationships. Also, the role of women in the Bible, and how although they appear submissive most of the time, they hold great strength.”

Dean looked at Castiel for a long moment. “You can’t possibly tell me I’m not allowed to take this class. This sounds perfect for me. I wanna learn about all this stuff! Religion and women, that’s my thing. I demand to take this class, Professor Novak.”

Castiel laughed. “You can demand things all you want, Dean, but I’m not allowing you to be my student ever again.”

Dean groaned. “Why did I have to hook up with the best philosophy professor in the department?”

“Because you find me irresistible?” Castiel said, smirking.

“I find you infuriating. I wanna learn things from you. I never considered that I’d be losing my favorite professor in all this.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Dean, I can teach you many things. All you have to do is ask.”

And boy, Dean had a lot of ideas about things Castiel could teach him, none of which involved philosophy. Dean bit his lip, realizing that this was worth losing his favorite professor. Having this with Castiel was so much better than having Castiel across the room, untouchable. Dean bent forward, pulling Castiel by the neck, and kissed him hungrily. Again and again, just because he could.

Before they knew it, Castiel was straddling Dean’s lap—his computer pushed to the coffee table to make room—and things were getting heated. The moment he felt the familiar hardness in Castiel’s pants brushing against his thigh, Dean broke the kiss.

“I hate to be a tease,” Dean breathed against Castiel’s open mouth, “but I think we’re getting carried away, babe.”

Castiel pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Dean’s neck before he whispered in his ear, “I forget where I am when I’m with you.”

Dean knew the feeling. Sam was in his bedroom, within hearing range, and Dean had completely forgotten. Until now. “This taking-it-slow thing is hard.”

Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes, his trademark sideways smile shaping his lips. “I think you’re worth it, though.”

And boy, did Dean wish they were alone in the house because he was ready to do filthy things to Castiel just for saying that. 

But no, they were going to go slow. It was for the best. 

Right?

“Should I go?” Castiel asked.

Dean knew that Castiel would leave early in the morning, so he shouldn’t be selfish by wanting to keep him around too late, but he really didn’t want to let him go just yet. “Would you stay for a movie?”

Castiel kissed Dean’s nose. “Absolutely.”

Going through their DVD collection was a walk through memory lane. Most of the movies they owned had belonged to Mary. And she was a big rom-com fan. She basically owned the entire Meg Ryan collection. But she had also been a big fan of the classics. Although Dean had seen many of them—and liked some—he hadn’t seen _ Pride and Prejudice _. As soon as Castiel spotted that title, he insisted they watch it.

“How have you never seen Keira Knightley’s incredible portrayal of Elizabeth Bennet?” Castiel asked.

Dean shrugged. “Is it really that good? I’ve read the book. I’ve read all of Jane Austen’s books because she’s a fantastic writer, but I never bothered looking up the movies.”

Castiel grinned. “Well, I think it’s about time you watched this masterpiece.”

And so, they sat pressed together on the couch with a big bag of popcorn to share between them as they watched _ Pride and Prejudice _. Dean didn’t have it in his heart to tease Castiel about his excitement for the movie because he looked so giddy to be sharing this with Dean for the first time.

“I never really pictured Mr. Darcy looking like that,” Dean said.

“Well, obviously no one compares to Colin Firth.”

“I haven’t seen that adaptation either. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I have other stuff to do than just sit and watch Jane Austen adaptations.”

“I think you should always make time for Jane Austen adaptations.”

Dean rolled his eyes this time. “Anyway. As I was saying, I always pictured Mr. Darcy with a better haircut than this guy.”

“Hey, Matthew Macfadyen is very handsome. I think his hair looks nice.”

“It’s too shaggy for my liking. Keira Knightley, though, she’s gorgeous.”

“That she is,” Castiel agreed, taking a handful of popcorn and eating it one at a time. 

Dean chuckled. “Why do you eat your popcorn like that?”

“Like what?” Castiel asked, repeating the action.

“You’re eating it one at a time. Are you scared you’re gonna choke on it or something?”

Castiel winked. “I just like to savor it.”

Dean licked the saltiness from his lips and Castiel followed the action. “Hmm. Interesting.”

Castiel’s gaze lingered on Dean before he turned back to the TV. It was difficult to concentrate for most of the movie when Castiel draped an arm around Dean’s shoulder and kept pressing kisses below his ear. 

Maybe it was Castiel’s closeness or the fact that the movie was actually really good, but Dean let out a gasp when Elizabeth Bennet received Mr. Darcy’s letter explaining the misunderstandings between them. That had been Dean’s favorite part in the book. Mr. Darcy wrote a letter, poured his heart out, and with his words cleared the air between them. It was so eloquent and romantic and Dean—embarrassingly—had swooned.

“What is it?” Castiel asked, paying attention to the movie again.

“It’s my favorite part.”

“The letter?”

Dean nodded, holding his breath as Mr. Darcy’s voice read the letter offscreen. It was such a well-written letter. “People stopped writing letters, you know? Have you ever received a handwritten letter from someone you loved? It’s the reason I loved Mr. Darcy so much when I read the book. Just ‘cause he wrote a damned good letter.”

“No, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one, actually,” Castiel said. “Do birthday cards count?”

“Birthday cards are not romantic love letters, Cas. There’s a difference.”

Castiel nodded. “Yeah, I guess I see your point.”

Dean shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth all at once, only for Castiel to make a face. “What, you jealous you don’t eat popcorn like me?” he spoke through a mouthful, popcorn spilling out of his mouth.

Castiel laughed. “Oh, yeah. Very jealous.”

“Shut up,” Dean said.

The rest of the movie went by quickly, and they mostly kept quiet so they could pay attention. By the end, when they meet at sunrise and Elizabeth kisses Mr. Darcy’s hands so tenderly, Dean could understand why Castiel loved this movie so much. It wasn’t an entirely accurate adaptation, but it was a very good one.

“Okay. I take back what I said about this guy playing Mr. Darcy. I like him. He can stay.”

“I’m glad you like him, but I think you should watch the BBC miniseries so you can see how wonderful Colin Firth portrays Mr. Darcy.”

“I promise I’ll look it up.”

“Good.” Castiel let out a long breath. “I should get going. It’s late.”

Dean walked him to the door. He wrapped his hands around Castiel’s neck and pulled him close. “Have a safe trip tomorrow. Call me when you get there.”

“I will.” Castiel closed the distance by pressing his lips against Dean’s, just once, chastely.

“Thanks again for my gift.”

“I’m glad you liked it, baby.”

Dean smiled, and pushed up Castiel’s glasses since they were hanging low on his nose. “Good night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

♦

They celebrated Christmas Eve at their aunt and uncle’s house. 

Dinner was a delicious casserole that Ellen made, and they drank eggnog that got everyone just tipsy enough, and then they sat around the tree to exchange gifts.

“I think I should go first,” Dean said, petting Sophie behind her ear (because of course he brought her along, it was _ Christmas _). Dean pulled out a stack of gift cards from his coat draped over the couch and handed one to each person. “I know, I’m the thoughtless asshole that gives out gift cards.”

Sam grinned as he accepted his. “He gave one to Castiel, even though Castiel gave him a very expensive book.”

Jo winced. “Oh, Dean, my darling, you should have come to me if you needed help shopping for your boyfriend.”

“Partner,” Dean corrected her. “And he was fine with the gift card, thank you.”

Jo shook her head. “That’s what he wanted you to think, but he obviously wants something more personal. Look, this is the start of your relationship. You gotta go big, or go home.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean frowned.

“Don’t listen to her,” Bobby said. “You don’t gotta buy your guy expensive things.”

“That’s right,” Ellen said. “You should make him something.”

Sam nodded. “Aunt Ellen has a good point. Just make him something. He’ll appreciate that.”

“Alright, you guys don’t have to worry about my relationship with Cas. We’re fine. We’re doing really well, actually. He called me yesterday when he got to Denver, and we’ve been texting.”

“You haven’t Facetimed him yet?” Jo asked. “What’s wrong with you, Dean? Is there not a single romantic bone in you?”

Dean looked completely lost. “What?”

“You have to Facetime him. It’s the first rule of long-distance dating.”

“We’re not long-distance dating,” Dean said. 

“Well, you are now,” Jo said. “He’s miles away. And he won’t be back until, like, after the new year, right? You gotta Facetime him. Trust me.”

Dean scowled at her. “Like I said, Cas and I are fine.”

But even after they finished exchanging gifts—Dean received a cozy red sweater and a new planner for school—he snuck outside to…Facetime Castiel. It wasn’t like he was worried about their relationship or anything, but it would be nice to see Castiel’s handsome face again. Even on his cell phone.

Castiel picked up on the third ring. He was wearing a Santa hat and holding up a glass of red wine. “Dean! I’m glad you called. How are you?”

Dean grinned, his heart hammering in his chest just by the sight of Castiel. _ Damn it. _ He hated it whenever Jo was right. “I’m doing great now, babe. How’s Colorado treating you?”

Castiel sipped his wine. “This is my fourth glass, so that should tell you something.” He laughed loudly. Yeah, he was definitely tipsy, to say the least. “I’m just sad I’m not with you. My family is driving me crazy, but I love them.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling. Hey, Cas, I just want you to know that I…I’m gonna get you a better Christmas gift. The gift card was a stupid idea.”

Castiel grimaced. “Hey, no, it wasn’t stupid. I really liked it. Besides, the book wasn’t even supposed to be a Christmas gift. It was something I saw a while ago and knew I had to get it for you. I just didn’t know when it would be appropriate to give it to you since you were still just my student then.”

Dean hesitated. “I just…I don’t want you to think that I don’t care about you enough to get you something more personal. Because you’re pretty much my favorite person, Cas.”

Castiel smiled sideways. “And you’re mine.”

“It’s nice to see your face. I almost forgot what you looked like.”

“I hope you like what you see.” Castiel wiggled his eyebrows. 

Dean laughed. “You have no idea.”

There was someone calling Castiel’s name that Dean couldn’t see, and Castiel cursed under his breath. “I have to get back to the party. I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sure. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Merry Christmas!” Castiel said before the call ended.

“Merry Christmas, Cas,” Dean said to the black screen.


	10. Chapter 10

“Spent a lifetime looking for somebody   
to give me love like you.”

-The Foundations,  _ Baby Now That I Found You _

The days passed, and they were uneventful. Dean spent most days at work. When he was home, he skimmed through the books he’d bought for the next semester. He Facetimed Castiel every day, but he still missed him more than he’d expected. One day, he marathoned the entire BBC  _ Pride and Prejudice  _ miniseries and learned that, yep, Colin Firth was the perfect Mr. Darcy. But that only made him miss Castiel even more.

Sam dragged Dean off the couch on New Year’s Eve. There was a party at the Roadhouse. Dean only relented when Sam mentioned he would be bringing Jessica with him. Dean hadn’t met her yet, but he’d heard so much about her, and watched so many of her educational videos, that he felt like he knew her. Besides, it wasn’t like Dean had anything better to do. Castiel wouldn’t be back for another week.

He’d missed today’s Facetime with Castiel. Apparently, he was too busy to talk. It was a bit strange, but Dean just shrugged it off. The last thing Castiel had texted him was:  _ I can’t talk now, but I’ll call tonight _ . Dean had replied with a simple:  _ Okay _ and that was that.

Maybe they’d been a little off today, but it was nothing to worry about. Or so, Dean told himself.

Despite the gnawing feeling that something was wrong, Dean was having a great time at the Roadhouse. Jess turned out to be as lovely as she appeared in her videos. He got the chance to thank her for all of her health tips, which he’d been trying to follow. 

“Stop bothering Jess about her videos,” Sam interrupted them when he returned to their table with two beers.

Dean downed the last of his beer. “I can’t help it, Sammy. I’m a fan!”

Jess laughed. “I think you’re kind of drunk.”

“Not as drunk as I’d like to be,” Dean said, rising from his seat to find another drink.

Jo shook her head as she opened another beer for him. “What’s with the long face and lonely drinking?”

Dean sighed, nursing the beer in his hands. Jo pushed a bowl of peanuts across the counter, and Dean smiled as he shoved a few of them into his mouth. “I don’t know. Guess I’m not in a celebratory mood.”

“When are you ever? You’re always a downer, man.” Jo said it half-jokingly, but Dean knew she was right.

“I guess I just wish Cas was here.” And there it was. Dean took a swig of his beer. He knew he wasn’t drunk enough because he was still thinking clearly.

Jo set her chin on her hand. “Your man will be back in no time, I’m sure. Just enjoy today with us. It’s New Year’s Eve. Have some fun.”

As if on cue, a Queen song blasted on the speakers, filling up the room with Freddie Mercury’s incredible voice.  _ Are you gonna take me home tonight? _

Dean locked eyes with Jo, for a moment lost in the memory of Mary and her records. But then Jo jumped over the counter and pulled him to the middle of the room to dance. Dean resisted at first, but Jo was persistent, and she managed to get him to move along to the song at the best of his abilities.

_ I was just a skinny lad, never knew no good from bad. _

Dean laughed as he spun Jo around and caught her before she tipped over. He could almost see Mary in the kitchen, humming along to the music, or singing. She had the best voice. Dean could feel Mary in the music, in the song, and he laughed again. Jo was a dorky dancer and he loved it. 

From their table, Sam and Jess cheered them on. Dean did his best not to trip on his feet while he kept up with the song. 

_ Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin’ world go ‘round. _

God, Dean missed this. Having fun. Dancing. Letting go. Queen. Mary. The whole package. Dean missed feeling this alive.

_ _

♦

_ _

It was 11:30 p.m. when Dean said his goodbyes to the crowd at the Roadhouse. Everyone was happily sedated from the combination of good beer and good music. Dean had bothered Jess some more about her amazing YouTube channel, and had even learned that she was a great karaoke performer when she got up there and performed  _ Bennie and the Jets  _ in perfect tune.

There was a chorus of “No, don’t leave!” when Dean grabbed his jacket and keys, but he snuck out when Jo was singing a scratchy Bob Dylan song and all attention was on her. 

He made it home a quarter to midnight, but he didn’t make it past the couch. He sprawled on it, turned on the TV, and flipped the channels until he found  _ When Harry Met Sally _ playing. Sophie was sound asleep on her bed, and she didn’t even bother getting up when she saw him. The movie was near the end, right before that classic chase on New Year’s Eve. It felt appropriate, so Dean left it on and watched, yawning.

Right on the good part—when Harry confesses his love for Sally—Dean’s phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket, half-expecting that it was Sam wondering why he’d disappeared. But it was Castiel.

Dean sat up immediately. He’d been waiting for Castiel’s call all evening. He answered as fast as he could. “Cas?”

“Dean,” Castiel breathed, sounding almost relieved. “How are you?”

“Good. How are you?” Of all the things he wanted to say, that was incredibly anticlimactic. Granted, it was late and Dean had had a few beers.

“Not great. I miss you.”

Dean swallowed, and found that he missed Castiel something fierce. “Me too.” His doorbell rang, and Dean jumped. It was probably Sam, who forgot his keys. “I wish I could see you. How much longer until you’re back?” Dean opened the door.

Castiel stood there, on Dean’s front porch, looking as radiant as ever. He pushed up his glasses and smiled sideways, making a show of checking his wristwatch. “I should be back right at midnight.”

Dean didn’t waste any time as he pulled him inside and shut the door, proceeding by pressing Castiel against said door and kissing him breathless. Dean moved back a couple of inches, and Castiel wrapped his arms tightly around Dean’s waist. “You came back.”

“I couldn’t stay away long.” Castiel nipped Dean’s lower lip. “I wanted you too much.”

Dean tangled his hands in Castiel’s hair, kissing him hungrily. He aligned their bodies from chest to hip, and then bucked his hips to press their erections together. Castiel let out a heavy gasp against Dean’s lips, and his hands moved to Dean’s ass, aiming to press him even closer. “I want you, too,” Dean said. “Now.”

Castiel nodded, kissing down Dean’s neck. Slowly, he pushed them towards the open bedroom. Once inside, Dean flipped the light switch and closed the door. Pressing a deep kiss to Castiel’s lips, he guided them the rest of the way to the bed. Dean fell onto it, and he wasted no time as he took his shirt off and tossed it aside. Castiel’s eyes widened and he bit his lip in anticipation before he crawled over Dean’s body, kissing his stomach and chest and collarbone until Dean was panting with need.

“Cas,” Dean sighed when Castiel bit down on Dean’s neck and then sucked on the sensitive skin.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered into his ear, his voice rough and quiet. “What do you want?”

“You,” Dean said almost instinctively. “I want you inside me.”

Castiel pulled back enough to look Dean in the eye. His blue eyes were a navy shade now. “Are you sure?”

“God, yes,” Dean said, bucking his hips again, only to make Castiel groan when their erections rubbed against each other again. He untucked Castiel’s button-down from his pants and undid every button so he could remove it, and then finally, they were chest to chest with nothing between them. Castiel looked amazing shirtless, Dean already knew, but this was better than his memories. All of a sudden, Dean forgot why they had been waiting to do this. He’d waited long enough while Castiel was miles away. He couldn’t wait any longer.

Dean dug through his nightstand until he pulled out a roll of condoms and a bottle of lube. He’d picked them up before Castiel left, and he was glad for it.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “You got those for me?”

“It was a long semester, professor.” Dean smirked, lying back on the pillow and spreading his legs beneath Castiel.

Castiel chuckled, ignoring the condoms and lube in favor of undoing Dean’s pants. He pulled them down carefully, like he was unwrapping a piece of candy he’d been wanting to eat for a while. Dean shivered under the attention. He loved the intensity of Castiel’s gaze on him, taking in every part of Dean’s body, every sound he made. Once the pants went, the underwear followed. Dean was naked and hard and Castiel took him in his mouth, his tongue doing filthy and wonderful things. 

Dean tried not to move his hips as Castiel sucked him off, but he managed to bury one of his hands in Castiel’s soft hair while he gripped the sheets with the other. The things Castiel’s mouth could do. Dean let out a moan when he felt himself getting closer, and he was glad when Castiel retreated because he wanted to come with Castiel inside him. Castiel smiled down at him like he understood Dean perfectly, because maybe he did. “Cas, please.”

Castiel removed his own pants and underwear, and then he knelt between Dean’s legs, spreading lube in his hand and rubbing it on his fingers. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” And then Dean felt one of Castiel’s fingers inside him, and he groaned, first in pain and then in pleasure as his body adjusted. Castiel bent forward and captured Dean’s lips with his own, kissing him deeply as he worked another finger in. Dean moaned against Castiel’s lips, wrapping his arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. 

Castiel moved his fingers again and hit Dean’s prostate just right, making Dean’s toes curl with pleasure. Castiel moved his lips to Dean’s neck and left a trail of open-mouthed kisses that were both gentle and sexy as hell. Dean snaked his hand between them and circled it around Castiel’s cock, giving it a tug, which turned Castiel’s kiss to a purposeful bite on Dean’s neck. “Fuck, Dean,” Castiel muttered.

“I’m ready,” Dean said, gripping Castiel even tighter. “And I think you are, too.”

Castiel removed his fingers from Dean and ripped open one of the condoms. When he had it on, he covered himself with more lube and then his weight was back on Dean. Castiel pressed a kiss to Dean’s forehead as he entered him. The initial discomfort quickly dissipated once Castiel was fully seated inside. Dean dug his fingernails into Castiel’s back, hard enough to bruise, but Castiel didn’t utter a single complaint. And then he started to move.

Dean nearly screamed when Castiel started hitting him on his prostate, this time with his cock. He wrapped his legs around Castiel, trying to get him as close as possible. Castiel bent down to kiss Dean, his tongue moving in sync with his hips. Dean knew he wouldn’t last much longer, not when Castiel took such good care of him.

“I’m so close, Cas.”

Castiel sucked on Dean’s lower lip. “Me too.” He cupped Dean’s cheek and looked into his eyes. Dean knew he should look away, that the intensity in Castiel’s eyes should be terrifying, but he didn’t have it in him to be afraid. 

Dean kissed Castiel through his orgasm, and Castiel swallowed his moans. A few thrusts later, Castiel came too, his forehead against Dean’s collarbone and Dean’s hand in his hair. Castiel collapsed on top of Dean, and Dean relished in the comfortable weight. This was the way Dean wanted Castiel, warm and happy and as close as physically possible. 

Castiel was humming a song Dean couldn’t remember, and Dean combed his fingers through his hair.

“That was as close to Nirvana as I’m ever gonna get,” Dean said.

Castiel glanced at him, and he was beaming. “That good, huh?”

Dean grinned. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late.”

Dean winced when Castiel slipped out of him and then rolled over to the other side of the bed. Castiel was staring at Dean, with a gaze that said more than words ever could. Dean looked right back at him. “Happy New Year, Cas.”

A sideways smile. “Happy New Year, Dean.”

_ _

♦

_ _

Dean woke up with a heavy weight on half of his body. He blinked a few times, his weary eyes adjusting to the sunlight peering in through his curtains. Black hair covered most of his line of vision, and when he stirred, Castiel shifted on top of him. Dean smiled when he realized one of Castiel’s leg and arm were both draped over Dean, and his head was on Dean’s chest. Dean hadn’t pegged Castiel for a cuddler, but it was endearing as hell. 

Dean kissed the top of Castiel’s head and tried to free himself from underneath him.

“No,” Castiel protested, half-asleep.

“Good morning, grumpy.”

“Too early,” Castiel mumbled, clinging closer to Dean. “Sleep.”

Dean glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “It’s almost noon, babe.”

Castiel, who was completely naked, pressed his erection against Dean’s usual morning wood. Dark blue eyes were gazing up at him, paired up with a soft smile. “Let’s stay in bed a little longer, yeah?”

Dean licked his lips, grinning when Castiel positioned himself entirely on top of Dean. “You really like being on top, don’t you?”

Castiel hummed. His hair was a shaggy mess, and Dean ran his hand through it. “You wanna switch?”

“No, no,” Dean said, smirking for a second before he flipped them over so he was straddling Castiel. He laced both of their hands together, bent forward, and whispered in Castiel’s ear, “I wanna ride you.”

Castiel bucked his hips in response, eager hands tugging down Dean’s boxer briefs. “You always have the best ideas.”

Dean laughed, reaching for the condoms and lube from his nightstand. This time, he used his own fingers to open himself up. In the meantime, Castiel watched with a hungry look in his eyes. Castiel touched himself as Dean continued with another finger. Dean bit his lip, his eyes fluttering close as he hit his prostate.

“You’re so beautiful,” Castiel said, his other hand running over Dean’s abdomen. His touch was a tender caress that made Dean shiver. “I could come just watching you.”

Dean opened his eyes. “I’m ready.”

Castiel had already put the condom on and lubed himself up. His sideways smile was the best thing Dean could ever wake up to, so he bent down and kissed his lips chastely. While they were still kissing, Dean positioned himself, and sat down on Castiel’s cock. Castiel hissed, biting onto Dean’s lip.

Dean smiled, relishing in the closeness he loved so much. Then, he started riding Castiel’s cock at a steady pace that only grew faster. Castiel’s hands were now on Dean’s hips, holding him tightly. It was the same possessive hold that he’d had when they’d danced at that bar months ago. Dean had liked it then, but he loved it now. He loved the way Castiel touched him, with care but also with desire. That same desire that pushed Dean closer and closer to him.

“You feel so good,” Dean said, running his hands up Castiel’s chest until he reached one of his nipples and flicked it. Castiel hissed again, bucking his hips harder. Dean grinned, doing it again.

“I’m not going to last much longer if you keep doing that,” Castiel said.

Dean took that as a challenge and bent forward so he could suck on one of Castiel’s nipples while he flicked the other one.

Castiel’s movements became erratic, and his breaths were ragged. His hold on Dean’s hips tightened and Dean sucked his nipple again. Castiel cried out Dean’s name, coming inside him.

Dean moved back so he could see the look of pure bliss on Castiel’s face. He couldn’t help the pride he felt in knowing he’d done that. Castiel was completely undone beneath him, and it was all because of him. Dean gave his cock a few tugs and he came all over Castiel’s chest.

“Come here,” Castiel said, pulling Dean’s face closer so he could kiss his.

“You still prefer being on top?” Dean asked.

Castiel chuckled. “I don’t have a preference as long as it’s you.”

Dean kissed Castiel’s forehead, and then he climbed off of him and the bed, grabbing a towel from his closet to wipe Castiel’s chest. “Let’s get breakfast. Come on.” Dean put his boxer briefs back on and watched as Castiel did the same, putting on his glasses as well.

“Are you going to cook for me?” Castiel asked.

“I was considering it,” Dean said, opening his door and stepping out.

Castiel’s chest was suddenly pressed against Dean’s back, arms wrapped around his middle. “I promise I’m not usually this clingy, but being in Colorado felt endless without you. I can’t seem to let you go.”

Dean laughed, his arms covering Castiel’s arms around him. “I know the feeling.”

Sophie came running towards them from the kitchen around the corner. She was barking with excitement. She stopped at Dean’s feet, standing up on her hind legs to be carried.

“Hey, girl.” Dean picked her up and Sophie licked his cheek in greeting. “Your other dad’s back. Bother him.” Dean shoved Sophie to Castiel, who took her with open arms.

“Hi, Sophie. I missed you too.”

When they made it to the kitchen, Castiel halted at seeing Sam at the dinner table, eating a bowl of cereal. Castiel stood behind Dean to cover up.

“Shit,” Castiel said. “My apologies, Sam. I’m going to go find my pants. Sorry again.” And then he nearly ran back to the bedroom.

Dean locked eyes with Sam, and they laughed together.

“Is that why you left before midnight last night?” Sam asked, pointing with his spoon to Dean’s bedroom.

Dean grabbed a frying pan. “Actually, Cas showed up to surprise me.”

“How romantic.” Sam made a face. “You guys were kinda loud this morning, and now my ears are bleeding. Thanks.”

“Sorry, Sammy. But it was a long week without him.”

Castiel walked back into the kitchen, fully clothed, with Sophie trailing behind him. “It was definitely the longest week of my life,” he agreed, sitting at the table.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Guys, calm down, it was one week.”

“You wanna go one week without seeing Jess and see how it feels?” Dean asked, getting started on the scrambled eggs.

“I don’t have to,” Sam said. “I can see her on YouTube whenever I want. And she can see me too.”

“You have a YouTube channel?” Castiel asked.

“I didn’t tell you about that?” Dean wondered.

“It’s the first I’m hearing about it,” Castiel said. “What’s the name of your channel?”

Dean looked over his shoulder to see Castiel already pulling out his cell phone to search for it. “Please don’t watch his videos. He filmed me without my permission.”

“People voted to see which one of us was hotter,” Sam said. “It was a tie. He hated it.”

“I just don’t like being objectified,” Dean said.

“Anyway, my channel is called Sam the Lawyer. I mostly post vlogs.”

“I just subscribed,” Castiel said. “Oh, here’s something interesting. This video is entitled ‘Ten Embarrassing Facts About My Brother.’ I must watch this.”

“NO!” Dean said, reaching for Castiel’s phone, but Castiel held it away from his grasp. “Don’t you dare watch that. I don’t even know what’s in it, but it can’t be anything good.”

Sam laughed. “Oh, it’s not good. It’s amazing.”

“Cas,” Dean warned.

Castiel smiled sideways. “I’m not going to watch it…right now.”

“Why’d you even make a video all about me?” Dean asked Sam. “I’m kinda boring, if you didn’t know.”

“My viewers would disagree,” Sam said. “They loved that video.”

Dean abandoned the eggs and sat at the table next to Castiel. “Alright. Show me.”

Castiel didn’t waste any time pressing play on the video.

Sam was sitting on the couch, facing the camera. “This video has been highly requested. You guys asked to know more about my big brother, Dean, so I decided to make this little list. These are the ten embarrassing facts about my brother.” The scene changed to Dean in the kitchen, cooking. Dean clearly hadn’t been aware he was being filmed. “Dean always sings when he cooks. Queen, usually.” And then Dean started singing  _ Crazy Little Thing Called Love _ as he seasoned his food before putting it in the oven. “Good thing he can actually sing.”

“Hey, that’s not cool!” Dean scowled at Sam. “I didn’t know I was being recorded. I’m really gonna sue you now.”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, okay.”

“You do have a nice voice, Dean,” Castiel said.

Dean kissed Castiel’s cheek.

They continued watching the video. Number nine: Dean baby talks when he’s talking to his puppy.  _ (“Not always”) _ . Number eight: Dean has both the  _ Mamma Mia! _ movies memorized and he sings along to every song. Number seven: Dean sniffs his shirts before putting them on.  _ (“I use lavender fabric softener and my clothes smell incredible. Bite me”).  _ Number eight: Dean uses way too much hair product, but pretends he doesn’t. Number seven: Dean always smiles like an idiot when he’s texting his boyfriend.  _ (“You do that? That’s very sweet”).  _ Number six: Dean mows the lawn in the shortest shorts on earth. (The video footage of that made Castiel squeal with glee, demanding that Dean wear those in front of him. Dear lord, save him). Number five: Dean cries at the end of  _ Titanic _ . Every time.  _ (“They could have both fit on that stupid door”)!  _ Number four: Dean uses Batman Band-Aids. Number three: Dean has a picture of his car as his phone screensaver. Number two: Dean sleeps with socks on.  _ (“I get cold in the night”)! _ Number one: Dean is the most protective big brother, and he’s actually pretty awesome. 

The video ended with Sam saying, “What can I say? I love the guy. He’s the best, and you’d be lucky to know him. That’s it for now, guys!”

Dean hadn’t expected to get a bit teary-eyed by a video that was meant to embarrass him. “Sammy, you clever asshole. I love you too. Bitch.”

Sam laughed. “You know, this is my most viewed video on my channel.”

“I can imagine it’s because of Dean in those shorts,” Castiel said. “By the way, when will you be mowing your lawn next?”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “I’m not telling you, you pervert.”

“He usually mows the lawn on Saturday mornings,” Sam said.

Castiel grinned at him. “Thank you, Sam. I owe you one.”

Dean stood up. “I gotta finish breakfast.”

Castiel and Sam continued watching videos together, laughing mostly at Dean’s expense. 

It was a good day.

♦

Much later that day, Dean walked Castiel to his car, carrying Sophie in his arms. Now that he was back, Castiel had to keep her for a week before Dean took care of her again. Those were their new terms for co-parenting their beagle. One week with each of them. Although Sam wanted to have her full-time, but Dean refused to keep her away from Castiel.

“I have something for you,” Dean said, pressing Castiel to his car. He leaned in for a kiss that turned into a heavy make-out session. 

“Was that what you had for me?” Castiel asked, kissing down Dean’s jaw.

“No, not that. But that was good too, huh?”

Castiel pulled away to look into Dean’s eyes. “What did you get me?”

Dean blushed as he pulled out a pair of mittens from the inside of his coat that he’d knitted. They were blue, and not super well done, but he’d tried his best. “My mom used to knit amazing things and she taught me a little bit. I’m obviously not as good as she was, but I hope you like them.”

Castiel swallowed, taking the mittens in his hands like Dean was presenting him with a diamond the size of a marble. Castiel looked up at Dean, and his eyes were a little watery. “I can’t believe you made me these. They’re beautiful.”

“You really like them?”

“Dean, no one has ever made me anything quite as incredible. Thank you. I love…I love them.” Castiel kissed him again, a soft lingering kiss that left Dean breathless.

“It’s your real Christmas present. Sorry it’s so late.”

Castiel gave him his best sideways smile. 

♦

Spring semester started faster than Dean had anticipated. Before he knew it, he had his backpack full of books back on his shoulders, and he was wandering the campus looking for his classes. Because he had enjoyed her class so much, Dean signed up for another philosophy class taught by Charlie. Environmental Ethics sounded perfect because the most Dean knew about helping the environment was to recycle and take shorter showers. Apparently, that was the minimum amount of input he could be contributing. But switching to a vegan diet and giving up his Impala for a hybrid sounded kind of impossible.

Charlie held him back after class. “How’s your first day going, Dean?”

Dean grinned. “Well, you know, I’m happy to be back on campus, but I’m not too thrilled now that I learned how much I’m harming the environment.”

“Sorry, dude, but I gotta make you think. That’s my job as your philosophy professor. Speaking of, how are things with Cas? He’s oddly private about you two. I keep bugging him for all the dirty details, but he won’t spill.”

Dean laughed. “And I won’t either. Cas is great, though. I’m just sorry I can’t be his student anymore. He’s a great professor.”

Charlie cleared her throat. “You mean, he’s a great professor  _ after _ me, right?”

“Yes, of course. That’s exactly what I meant.”

“Good. Sorry you don’t have a chance with me. I don’t play for your team.”

“Damn. I was just about to dump Cas for you.”

“Excuse me?”

Dean spun around to find Castiel standing right behind him, his narrowed eyes on Dean. “Sorry, professor. You caught me. I was declaring my undying love for my other professor.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow, holding back a smile before he looked at Charlie. “I was just coming to see if you’d like to have lunch with me today. I would have asked Dean but he has his schedule full.”

“That’s true,” Dean said. “I should actually head out to my next class. I have biology. What the hell am I gonna use biology for? I’m a mechanic.”

“We’ll finish our talk later,” Charlie said with a wink.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Dean.”

Dean slapped Castiel’s ass before he walked away. “Sounds good, Professor Novak.”

“Dean,” Castiel chastised him, although the classroom was empty aside from them.

“Keep it in your pants, Dean!” Charlie called out to him.

Dean smirked all the way to his next class.

♦

The doorbell woke Dean. He groaned, rubbing his eyes as Castiel stirred beside him. They were at Castiel’s house, so Dean rolled over to his side and let Castiel worry about answering the door.

“It’s 8,” Castiel said. “It’s Sunday. Why?”

The doorbell sounded again.

“Tell them to leave us alone so we can go back to sleep,” Dean mumbled, covering himself up to his face with the blanket.

Castiel groaned, but he got up and went to get the door anyway. 

Dean tried to regain his sleep, but it became harder when muffled voices suddenly filled the house. Apparently, Castiel had failed to send away whoever had rudely woken them up this early. Dean gave up on sleeping, threw the blanket away, and slipped into Castiel’s Beatles T-shirt that he dug out from the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. He walked out of the room, yawning, and he stopped when he entered the living room and saw three strangers staring at him.

“Dean,” Castiel said, suddenly alarmed.

Two of the strangers looked like they were in their late sixties. The woman was a brunette with an expensive-looking coat on and shiny diamond earrings. The man was gray-haired and wore a black suit with a red tie. The man behind him looked younger than Castiel, and he was the one looking less formal in jeans and a T-shirt that read,  _ I may look calm, but in my head I’ve pecked you 3 times _ with a picture of a rooster in the middle.

“Uh, hi,” Dean said, trying to hide behind one of Castiel’s plants because, yep, he was in his boxer briefs. This felt like payback for laughing at Castiel when Sam caught him in a similar situation.

“Mom, Dad, Gabriel. This is Dean.” Castiel looked from Dean to his apparent family.  _ Way to make a good first impression _ . “He’s uh, well, he’s a friend. Yeah, he’s a friend from school who came over last night and we were working late so I offered him my spare bedroom. Dean, buddy, meet my family.”

_ Buddy? _ Dean was trying very hard to keep up, and it sounded like Castiel was one-hundred percent lying to his parents about Dean. But, why? Was he ashamed of him? Dean tried not to show his disappointment. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dean, but you already knew that.”

Castiel’s parents looked unimpressed. But Gabriel had a bright smile on his face, and he wouldn’t take his eyes off of Dean. Dean tried to ignore him.

“Yes, well, I’m sure your friend won’t mind giving us the room so we can get settled in,” Castiel’s mom said. “Castiel, please take our bags to the spare room. And make sure you clean it up thoroughly.” She eyed Dean like he was a bug on her path. “We wouldn’t want to catch anything.”

“Mom,” Castiel said, but he sighed and did as he was told.

Dean’s jaw dropped at this. He’d expected Castiel to at least put up a fight, or jump in to defend Dean, even just a little bit. But Castiel looked completely defeated as he carried the bags into the spare bedroom, which hadn’t been used at all. Still.

Gabriel approached him, going in for a handshake. “Hiya, Dean. I’m surprised Cassie hasn’t mentioned you. You’re pretty. Look at the size of your eyelashes. Are you a professor like my big bro?”

Dean stared at Gabriel, debating whether he should play along or just come out with the truth. He hated lying. Why was he being subjected to this lie in the first place? What the hell was going on with Castiel acting so fucking weird? 

Fortunately, Castiel returned to the room before Dean made up his mind. “Gabriel, please don’t bother my friend. He’s leaving.”

Dean raised his eyebrows at Castiel, and Castiel gave him a pleading look. “Can I see you for a moment,  _ friend _ ?”

Castiel nodded, and then turned to his parents. “Make yourselves at home. I’ll be right back.” Then he motioned for Dean to follow him back to his bedroom.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Dean threw out a, “What the fuck was that?”

Castiel pinched the bridge of his nose, pacing the room. Dean had never seen him like this before. “I’m sorry, Dean. I really am. But it’s complicated with my family. I can’t explain everything right now. I would really appreciate it if you left. I promise I’ll explain things later.”

“No,” Dean said. “You’re explaining things now. Out with it.”

Castiel let out a long breath, shoulders sagging. “My parents, my siblings, they don’t know I’m gay. I’ve never introduced them to anyone I’ve been with. They just think I’m a very private person, which is half true.”

Dean took a few seconds to process this. It was almost unbelievable. Castiel was a grown man. Hiding something this big for this long was unusual, but not unheard of. “Why are you hiding this from them, Cas?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel said, pacing again. “My family’s very religious. They’re not your average Catholics. They live for the church. They have our town priest over for dinner every week. It’s how they’ve lived their entire lives. It’s how I was raised. When I knew I was gay as a teenager, I couldn’t just tell them the truth. And then I moved away and lived my own life away from them. It was just easier to keep up the lie. Now that I’m older, I’ve just given up on ever telling them the truth. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“Are you so ashamed of who you are? Don’t you think they’ll understand?” Dean ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, Cas, don’t you want your family to know who you really are?”

“This is who I am,” Castiel said. “I’m Castiel Novak, a college professor. That’s all they need to know about me. Whoever I’m sleeping with is none of their business.”

Dean scoffed. “Is that what this is, then? We’re just sleeping together? Because I thought we were in a relationship.”

“Of course we are. But Dean, I can’t share that part with them. They’ll never understand. And I can’t bear to lose my family. If my parents knew the truth, they would never allow me back in their home. I would never be able to see them again. I can’t tell them the truth.”

“So that’s it? You’re just gonna keep lying to them.”

Castiel didn’t answer, but Dean knew that was his response.

“What about us?” Dean asked. “Are we going to hide from them forever? What if we get married one day? Will they just live not knowing their son got married?”

“It would be for the best, yes.”

Dean laughed bitterly. “I can’t believe this. Cas, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m completely serious, Dean.” Castiel took a step forward. “I once told you that to be with me would require a lot of bravery. I wasn’t joking. I need to know you understand why I’m doing this. Please tell me that you do.”

Dean grimaced. None of this felt right. None of this  _ was _ right. Castiel was asking him to be part of his lie. Not only that. Castiel was also asking him to be his best-kept secret. Dean was thirty-seven, but he suddenly felt like the scared teenager that he was in high school, doing his best not to show any part of his bisexuality. Was he willing to go through that again?

If he wasn’t, what did that mean?

Oh no. No, no, no, no. Dean was screaming on the inside. Part of him, the part that was pretty sure he was madly in love with Castiel, was screaming at him not to do this. He had told Castiel he was brave before. And that had been true. But hiding wasn’t brave. It was the complete opposite. Dean knew he wouldn’t be able to live a lie. The small, sane part of him knew that. But he suddenly hated that part of him for what it was forcing him to do.

He couldn’t really believe it, even as he was saying it. “Cas. I don’t think I can do this.” Dean swallowed the thickness in his throat. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hide the way I feel about you. I don’t want to be a secret you keep from your family. But I would never force you to come out to them, or anyone else. I understand why you won’t do it. I do. And I respect your decision. I think it’s better to take myself out of the equation. I won’t stand in the way of your relationship with your family.”

Castiel looked wrecked, like Dean had just punched him. When he blinked, a few tears rolled down his cheeks, but Castiel wiped them away quickly. He looked away, and Dean felt a small moment of weakness where he was about to take it all back, but he didn’t. In the end, Dean kept his mouth shut. Castiel wiped his cheeks again, and then he went to his closet and picked out a nice dress shirt and slacks. 

“Cas?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I need to get dressed. I’d like the room, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, I’ll get out of here.” Dean picked up his clothes from the floor and got dressed. Castiel sat on the edge of his bed to wait for Dean to leave in order to start changing. Dean felt like he was going to throw up any second, but he held it in. If he held it in long enough, maybe it wouldn’t happen.

Dean looked at the Beatles T-shirt he’d left wrinkled on the bed, and then at Castiel, who just kept staring at his open closet like it had the answers to everything inside. “I’m sorry things had to end this way.”  _ I didn’t think they would ever end in the first place. Not with you _ . “I’ll bring Sophie back to you tomorrow.”

“Don’t,” Castiel said, still staring at his closet. “Don’t do that. I don’t want her. You can keep her.”

“But Cas—”

“I don’t want her. Just don’t. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Dean steeled himself before he walked out of the bedroom and through the living room with Castiel’s surprise guests. He was relieved to not find Castiel’s parents, only his brother watching TV on the couch.

“Hey, you staying for breakfast?” Gabriel asked before he looked at Dean. Judging from his expression, Dean wasn’t hiding his shit mood. “What the hell happened in there? Did Cassie kick you out? Our parents can be assholes. Don’t let them get to you, Dean-o.”

“No, it’s fine. I just need to get home.”

Gabriel looked at Dean some more. “Let me walk you out.”

Dean grumbled. The last thing he wanted was to be further scrutinized by Castiel’s family. Granted, Gabriel hadn’t been as bad, but after what had just happened, Dean just wasn’t in the mood. “I can walk to my car just fine, thanks.” 

Gabriel followed behind anyway. He stopped Dean before he got in the Impala. “They screwed it up, didn’t they?”

Dean turned around to face Gabriel. He smiled sideways, and Dean really wanted to throw up now. “I really have to go.”

“Fuck. They keep doing this. I hate them sometimes.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“My stupid parents,” Gabriel said, as though it was obvious. “They fucked this up for you and Cassie, didn’t they?”

Dean widened his eyes. “How do you know about that?”

Gabriel gave Dean a look. “Please. I grew up with the guy. I found his porn stash when we shared the same room back in high school. I just don’t get how he’s been able to keep his secret for so long. I’m sure deep down our parents know. When you’re a man nearing forty and you’ve never once shown interest in a single woman, your parents either have to be completely stupid or completely in denial. Sadly, I can’t say which one is true.” Gabriel sighed. “Either way, sorry they fucked this up. I’d like him to tell me the truth for himself because outing people isn’t cool, but sometimes I just feel like shaking him and telling him: ‘hey, bro, I know you’re gay. You don’t have to hide anymore.’”

Dean didn’t comment on that. He really shouldn’t get involved because he wasn’t a part of Castiel’s life anymore. But damn it if he didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. “Just...look out for him. I really care about him, and I need him to be okay.”

“My brother can be dense sometimes, but don’t give up on him just yet.”

Dean was tired and nauseated and he just needed to not be here anymore. “It was nice meeting you, Gabriel. Goodbye.”

This time, Gabriel let him go.


	11. Chapter 11

“Love of my life, can’t you see?   
Bring it back, bring it back,   
don’t take it away from me.”

-Queen,  _ Love of My Life _

Three miserable weeks passed, and Dean had hated every single waking hour of them. On campus, he had to jump through hoops just to avoid running into Castiel. But as much as he tried, Dean ran into him everywhere. It seemed as though the universe was conspiring against him. The worst part was the way Castiel looked—or didn’t—look at him. Usually, it was Dean who spotted him first. Dean was weak, so he would stare at him for a few seconds, but when Castiel looked at him, Castiel would immediately look away, and pretend he hadn’t seen him at all. 

Dean knew that being friends was probably out of the question, but it hurt too much knowing that Castiel didn’t want to even look at him. Even though, yeah, Dean had been trying to avoid him too.

All of it sucked. 

Dean had cut back on work now that he was a full-time student, but that didn’t stop him from putting in many hours on the weekend. He needed to work so he wouldn’t be obsessively thinking about Castiel. Weekends were safer than weekdays, only because he knew for certain that he wouldn’t cross paths with Castiel and his absent stares. 

Weekends were awful.

Sam had been awesome about Dean’s moping. He’d stayed up and talked to him when Dean had needed him the most. They’d seen  _ Mamma Mia! _ together a few times, but it only made them miss Mary, so they had to cut back on it, as much as they loved the movies. Now, they mostly just sat on the couch eating ice cream and watching  _ Stranger Things _ . That had become Dean’s favorite activity. 

They had paused the show while Sam took a pee break. Dean pulled out his phone to check his emails. He had a few assignments waiting for him, and he’d emailed one of his professors for help on one of them, so he hoped he’d gotten a reply already. He was surprised to find an email from Charlie instead. 

The subject line was  _ You’re Cordially Invited _ . Dean clicked on it and read on.

_ Hello, you fortunate bastard. _

_ If you’ve received this email, consider yourself lucky. I’m turning thirty next week. I know, I look super young and handsome, you don’t have to tell me. Anyway, I’m throwing a big party at my place next Saturday at 7 p.m. and I’d love for you to come. Fair warning: If you’re a fellow colleague, I’ve invited my students too. If you’re a student, I’ve invited my fellow colleagues. Don’t let this put a strain on your entertainment. Once you walk into my house, you’re all my buddies.  _

_ RSVP by replying to this email, duh! _

_ Hope to see you there, _

_ _

_ Charlie Bradbury _ __   
_ Philosophy Department _ _   
_ __ University of Texas at Austin

_ _

Dean put his ice cream down and sat up, his thumb hovering over the reply. Going to this party sounded like the worst thing he could do. He knew the chances of running into Castiel were pretty high. But he also couldn’t avoid him forever. Dean had four years left to graduate at the same university Castiel worked in. They had to put an end to this awkwardness at some point. Maybe one day, they could be friends again.

Although, yeah, it would take a lot before that. Dean couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to be just friends with Castiel. But not having Castiel in his life at all wasn’t any better.

Dean came to a decision and replied to the email.  _ I wouldn’t miss it for the world! _ Dean wrote. 

God, he hoped he wouldn’t regret this.

_ _

♦

_ _

Sam and Jess were watching him as he ran from his room to the bathroom and back again. Dean had changed outfits and had messed with his hair dozens of times, but nothing looked good. He’d ignored them when they tried to talk some sense into him. Dean didn’t need their judgement. He needed their advice.

“How does this shirt look? Better?” He stood in front of them with his arms extended, wearing a red button-up shirt.

“Red looks good on you,” Jess said. “But the blue one looked good on you too.”

“Should I wear the blue one, then?” Dean asked. “No, maybe I’ll wear the gray one and blend in a little.”

“Dean, just stop,” Sam said. “You’re putting way too much pressure on this night. It’s Charlie’s birthday. That’s it. If you happen to run into Cas while you’re there, just greet him nicely and walk away. You don’t have to talk to him.”

“I know that, Sammy. I’m not hoping that tonight will clear the air between us. I’m just hoping that we stop treating each other like complete strangers. We have to coexist for the next four years in the same college. We gotta do something to fix what’s broken.”

“What does that have to do with what kind of shirt you wear?” Sam asked.

“I just wanna look decent,” Dean said. “For Charlie.”

“Right. Yeah. For Charlie.”

Dean ran back to his room put on his black leather jacket on top of his red button-up and ran a hand through his hair one last time. Maybe Sam was right. He shouldn’t be expecting much from tonight. Maybe Castiel wouldn’t be there at all.

He hated how much he wanted that not to be true.

_ _

♦

_ _

Dean arrived to Charlie’s place closer to 8:00 p.m. due to his indecisiveness. Charlie opened the door and pulled him into a hug. Dean handed Charlie her present, and Charlie thanked him and kissed his cheek. The music was loud in the apartment, and there were a ton of people everywhere. Charlie’s place was small but cozy. There were Marvel posters all over, and a few houseplants here and there. Other than that, the place was filled with books. 

“I’m so psyched you’re here!” Charlie said, pulling him by the hand to a group of friends by the kitchen. “Guys, this is one of my favorite students, Dean Winchester. Dean, this is Dorothy, Eric, Miguel, and Caroline. I LARP with them on the weekends.”

“Hey, guys,” Dean said. “LARPing, huh? That sounds cool.”

“Oh, it’s incredible,” Charlie said. “You should join us sometime.”

“You really should,” Miguel said, leaning closer. “We know how to have a good time. Trust me.”

Dean laughed. “You know what? I might take you up on that offer one of these days.”

“What’s your drink?” Charlie asked. “I have margaritas, but there’s also vodka, whiskey, tequila, rum, and a lot of sodas and mixers to go with it.”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “You have beer?”

“Ugh, you’re so boring!” Charlie said. “Yes, I have beer. I’ll bring you a bottle. Just know that the cool people drink fruity drinks.”

“I don’t think I got that memo,” Dean said. 

He was surprised to find that he didn’t feel terrible being here. Charlie was a great hostess and she threw a great party. When she returned with his beer, Dean mingled a bit. He didn’t run into Castiel—he wasn’t even sure he was here—but he found himself on a couch with Miguel, discussing  _ Stranger Things _ .

“You’re wrong, dude,” Miguel said, shoving Dean’s arm. The guy was cute, and he had nice curly hair that Dean could just tell was really soft. Dean was a sucker for soft hair. And yeah, that just made him think of Castiel, but he was having a nice time with Miguel. “Eleven could totally kick Thanos’s ass. If she were an Avenger, the movie would have ended in like two minutes.”

“Eleven’s just a kid,” Dean said. “She has nosebleeds every time she overexerts herself.”

Miguel rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. I get it. Maybe she has enough with just the demogorgon.”

“I think so too.”

Miguel touched Dean’s arm again, and this time, Dean fisted his hand. Being touched like this, with intent, made him instantly panic. Castiel had been the last one to touch him like this. Dean knew that Miguel was probably interested in him, and although Dean was flattered, it was way too soon for him to think about dating anyone else. At least not for a while.

“You want another beer?” Miguel asked. “I’m gonna get myself another margarita.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Miguel winked at Dean before getting up and heading to the kitchen.

Dean stared down at his shoes, trying to get a hold of himself, when he felt someone sit on the empty spot beside him on the couch. “That was fast…” Dean started saying, but trailed off when he realized it wasn’t Miguel back with their drinks. It was Castiel. 

Castiel was looking into Dean’s eyes with the same intensity as before. Not that absent gaze that Dean had hated so much lately. Dean couldn’t help staring back at him in the same way. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hi, Cas.” Dean swallowed, his heart racing just by being this close to Castiel again.

“Forgive me if I’m interrupting something,” Castiel said, looking back in the direction of the kitchen. “I saw you talking to one of Charlie’s friends, and it looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, Miguel’s cool.” Dean ran a hand through his hair. “I hadn’t seen you. I wasn’t sure you were here.”

Castiel gave a small nod. “I wasn’t sure you were here either. But I’m glad you are.”

“Uh, Dean?”

Dean looked up to see Miguel holding their drinks. Miguel handed Dean his beer and stood awkwardly. “Thank you. Miguel, this is Cas—Castiel,” he corrected himself. “Castiel, this is Miguel.”

“Hi,” Miguel said, sipping his margarita.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Miguel, with something like anger flashing on his face. “Could you give us a second? I need to speak with Dean.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess.” Miguel looked at Dean, but Dean didn’t stop him from leaving. So he did.

Castiel looked back at Dean. “Are you interested in him?”

Dean blinked at the blunt question. Not exactly what he’d been expecting to hear from Castiel. “I don’t see why that should matter to you.”

Castiel frowned. “Dean, I know we haven’t spoken in a month, but there’s a reason for that. I needed some space to think. You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to just pick up the phone and call or text you.” There was a long pause. “I’ve missed you.”

Dean sighed, resisting the urge to tell Castiel how much he’d missed him too. He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. “Look, Cas, I think we should try to be friends. I know that things have been awkward between us, but I don’t want them to be.”

“Friends,” Castiel said the word like it was foreign to him. “You want to be friends?”

Dean nodded. “It beats not having you in my life at all.”

“I’d like to have you back in my life too.” Castiel’s gaze was hypnotizing. Dean had trouble looking away. Castiel touched Dean’s shoulder, and Dean hated how much that small contact sent a thrill through his body. 

“Have a beer with me,” Dean said, rising from the couch. “Come on.” Hesitantly, Castiel stood too, and followed behind Dean as he made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a beer for Castiel, opened it, and handed it to him. Dean clinked their beers together and then took a long swallow from his own. Castiel mirrored him, never taking his eyes off Dean. “You look good.”

Castiel smiled. He wore ripped jeans, a flannel shirt over a white T-shirt, and Converse. Dean didn’t know why, but seeing Castiel looking so casual had always made him happy. “You think so? I feel incredibly underdressed.”

“You look good in everything.” Dean regretted saying that as soon as it was out, but it was too late to take it back.

Castiel tilted his head and hummed, looking curiously at Dean. “Dean, I know it really isn’t any of my business, but are you seeing anyone lately?”

“No,” Dean said quickly. “I’m not.” There was a long moment of silence before Dean asked, “Are you?”

Castiel shook his head and sipped his beer. “I couldn’t. After you, I just couldn’t.”

“Cas.”

“I wish I could tell you everything in my head the way it is in there. I feel like whatever I say won’t make sense. I just…God, I just have so much I want to say to you.”

“It’s alright,” Dean said. “You don’t have to say anything tonight. Just have a beer with me. We can worry about the rest later.”

Castiel licked his lips and looked down at the beer he was gripping in his hands. 

Even though Dean knew he shouldn’t, there was nothing holding him back when he reached for Castiel’s chin and tilted it up so he could see Castiel’s blue eyes again. “I’m really glad I ran into you here, professor.”

Castiel grabbed Dean’s wrist and lowered it, reaching for Dean’s hand. Dean laced their fingers, and then they were just standing alone in the kitchen, drinking beer and holding hands.

“I like the way your hand feels in mine,” Castiel said. “You have calloused hands. Working hands. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

Dean looked at him. “I like your soft hands.”

“It’s interesting, isn’t it? How well we fit with each other, right down to our hands?”

Dean took another sip of his beer.

♦

The following week wasn’t as terrible as the past four had been. Every time Dean ran into Castiel in the hallways, they would smile at each other. They wouldn’t stop and talk, but that was enough of an improvement. Dean was content with their newfound agreement to be friends. 

One day, Dean walked past one of Castiel’s classes in the middle of a lecture. It was being held in a huge room that seated about fifty students, and the back door was open, so he snuck inside. Castiel was facing the whiteboard, writing down notes, while Dean sat all the way at the back.

Castiel was going on about David and Bathsheba and the power dynamics of their relationship. Dean sat fascinated, watching Castiel completely immersed in what he was teaching. He’d never seen a professor teach with such passion. Castiel taught like his life depended on it, like he was betting everything on his students learning the material.

When Castiel turned around to face his students again, his eyes immediately found Dean’s, and he stopped talking mid-sentence. Dean waved a little, and Castiel smiled sideways and pushed up his glasses. Then, he cleared his throat and continued with the lecture.

Castiel kept looking at Dean, almost like he was expecting him to vanish at any time, and he needed to be sure he was still there. Dean was done with classes for the day, so he decided to stick around until the end.

After class, Castiel packed up quickly and approached Dean. “Did you enjoy my lecture, Dean?”

“I did,” Dean said. “I almost forgot how good it felt to be taught stuff by you.”

Castiel chuckled. “I almost forgot how much of a charmer you are.”

Dean smiled, but there was a tense moment between them that Dean crushed with a clear of his throat. “I should get going.”

“Me too. Do you…want to walk together?”

“Sure.” 

They walked side by side all the way to the parking lot. The sky was crowded with gray clouds, and a chilly wind blew around them. A storm was brewing. 

Dean spotted the Impala first, so Castiel walked him all the way to the door. They hadn’t said much more than a few words on the walk there. When Dean stood with his driver’s door open, Castiel brushed his fingers over Dean’s in the gentlest way. 

“Dean, would it be okay if I stopped by later today? I have something I’d like to give you.”

Dean was confused for a second, wondering if his birthday was coming up, but it definitely wasn’t. He also couldn’t remember if he’d left some of his things at Castiel’s place that he’d forgotten. Maybe a toothbrush, but nothing major. “Yeah, I’ll be home. Stop by at any time.”

Castiel nodded. “Thank you, Dean. I’ll see you later, then.”

And with that, he was gone.

♦

Sophie was running towards the small purple ball Dean had tossed down the hall, and then running back towards him with the ball in her mouth. She dropped it by his hands and then ran away a few paces to wait for Dean to throw it again. Dean fake threw it a few times and laughed at her wagging tail, waiting in excitement for the real thing. Dean tossed it for real this time, and Sophie ran away to get it.

The doorbell rang just as Sophie returned with the ball. Dean scratched her behind her ear before he stood from the couch. He wasn’t surprised to open the door and find Castiel standing on his porch. He was surprised to find him sopping wet. It’d been pouring outside, and Castiel clearly didn’t have an umbrella. His dark hair was dripping and his cheeks were flushed from the cold.

“Cas, come inside,” Dean said, ushering him in. “You’re freezing.”

Castiel stepped inside, but he didn’t move farther than that. “I can’t stay long. I need to get home and grade some tests.”

“Let me get you a towel at least.” Dean left before Castiel could protest, and once he found him a clean towel, he draped it over his head and helped him dry himself. “You should really invest in an umbrella. You’re gonna catch a cold this way.”

“All my umbrellas break within days of use. It’s just not a good investment to make.”

Dean gave him a look. Before he could stop himself, he combed back some of Castiel’s wet hair. Castiel didn’t shove his hand away. “You wanna come sit for a bit? I can make you hot chocolate.”

Castiel smiled sideways. “That sounds tempting. I really wish I could stay, Dean. I just needed to bring you this.” Castiel reached inside his trench coat and pulled out a long white envelope, which was completely dry. It was bulky, which meant there was more than just paper inside. “Don’t open it until I leave, please.”

“What is it?” Dean shook it, but he couldn’t hear anything rattling.

“It’s what I should have said to you long ago.”

_ A letter? _ Dean wondered. Either way, he would wait until Castiel left to find out. For now, he just needed to make sure Castiel was okay. “Are you still cold? I can let you borrow some clothes.”

Castiel shook his head. “I think it’s better if I go home now.”

“Let me at least lend you an umbrella for the walk back to your car.”

“Alright. Just don’t expect it to return unbroken to you.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but he went to grab the umbrella. When he returned, Castiel was on his knees, petting Sophie. “I think she misses you,” Dean said.

Castiel looked up at Dean. “I miss her too.”

“You sure you don’t wanna take her home for a few days?”

Castiel stood up, took the umbrella, and returned the towel. “Maybe some other time.”

“Okay, well, have a safe drive home, Cas.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean watched as Castiel walked to his car, protected by the umbrella. He was relieved to see him back in the front seat, safe and sound. As if the rain would hurt him somehow. It was hard not to worry about Castiel.

Back on the couch with Sophie cuddled up on his lap, Dean opened up the envelope. He pulled out two pages written in perfect cursive. It was Castiel’s handwriting. Dean would recognize it anywhere. There was also a cassette tape. Dean owned a small collection that he played in his Impala, but he was surprised that Castiel had even found one nowadays. And then he gasped when he read the white strip on the tape:  _ Songs that make me think of you. _

It was a mixtape. Dean hadn’t been given a mixtape in decades. He didn’t even know how one could be made with all the technology that replaced those things.

Dean set the mixtape down beside him and unfolded the letter. From the first line, Dean was hooked.

_ Hello, Dean, _

_ After spending over a month without you, I think I’ve finally found a way to tell you what I’ve needed to tell you for weeks. I hope you can appreciate an honest letter. I happen to know how much you loved Mr. Darcy’s letter, and although I could never amount to Mr. Darcy, I hope this is enough for now. I could write you a thousand more, if you’d like. _

_ Ever since the day we broke up, I’ve wanted nothing but to turn back time. I wanted to return to the age of sixteen, when I knew I was gay, and I was afraid to share that fact with any of my family. I wanted to be true to myself, because I wanted to be as brave as you are. Since time machines are sadly not a real invention—yet—I chose an alternative: therapy.  _

_ I’ve been in therapy twice a week since things ended between us. I have to say, there’s nothing quite as soothing as cutting yourself open in front of a stranger to share your deepest fears and desires. I’ve been working on my issues, which I’ve realized are quite a lot. Being in the closet for my entire life has been more detrimental to my mental health than I had ever known. I don’t think I would have ever done any of this if it hadn’t been for you. So, for that I thank you. _

_ Losing you has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through. I wanted to patch things up between us the very same day you left. I would have done it, too, but then I started thinking about everything you said that day. All my life, I thought that I was fine living two separate lives. I thought that my family was better left in the dark about my relationships. But I’ve learned that I cannot keep letting these old religious beliefs control my decisions. I cannot allow my parents to treat me like I’m inferior to them. I am my own person. I’m gay. I don’t want to hide this anymore. Not from them. Not from anyone. _

_ Dean, I fell in love with you before our first kiss. I’ve never loved anyone this way. You make me want to be the best version of myself. You make me want to be completely honest. There were many times when I wanted to say this to you, but fear held me back. Fear that you would run away from me once you knew how quickly I had fallen deeply in love with you. Fear that you would not reciprocate my feelings. But I’m not afraid anymore. I love you, Dean. I have loved you for a while now. I’m sorry I wasn’t the person you thought I was. I’m sorry I let you down. _

_ However, if you think you could love me, flaws and all, I would like to invite you to my house this Friday evening. My parents, and two of my siblings, will be there for dinner. I’ve asked them to come so that I can tell them the truth. All of it. I would like to have you there. I would like to tell them that I love you more than I’ve ever loved another person. I would like to tell you in person as well. I would like to tell the whole world because I’m going to be brave from now on. It’s what you and I deserve. _

_ Lastly, I wanted to give you a mixtape. You are my age; therefore, you must remember how significant mixtapes were back in the day. I have chosen a few songs that make me think of you, as it says on the tape. Songs that I hope speak of the things I still am unable to write in this letter. I hope you listen to it, and I hope you like it. _

_ Yours always, _

_ Castiel _

Dean folded the letter and kissed it. His eyes were watery, and when he blinked, a tear rolled down. He understood now why Elizabeth Bennet had been complete putty when Mr. Darcy wrote her that letter. 

Without wasting any time, Dean grabbed his shoes and keys and he was out the door. It was still pouring out, and Dean had forgotten an umbrella, but he didn’t have to patience to go back for one. As soon as Dean was in his car, he popped the mixtape in. 

The first song was quiet, but it built up quickly. Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. When the chorus started, Dean nearly hit a tree.

_ “And I will surround you with a love too deep for words. Hold you from the world and its curse, so long as I have breath in my lungs. Long as there’s a song to be sung. I will be yours and you will be mine. Ever our lives entwined. My rose of Sharon.” _

“Rose of Sharon,” Dean whispered. Dean could remember that day in class, months and months ago, when Castiel quoted a verse from Song of Solomon. He’d talked about a rose of Sharon. He’d been looking at Dean with intent. Dean hadn’t been sure at the time if Castiel had meant to say something through the verse. Back then, he thought it was all coincidental. But Castiel had been trying to convey something more. And he’d remembered enough to put this song first on the mixtape. Dean’s hands tightened on the wheel.

A few minutes later—though they felt like hours—Dean pulled into Castiel’s driveway. He ran to the front porch in the rain, and knocked on Castiel’s door incessantly. 

It didn’t take long for Castiel to open the door, eyes wide as he looked at the state Dean was in.

Dean didn’t let Castiel get a word in before he pulled him by his shirt and kissed him right on his front porch, thunder roaring in the sky. Dean held Castiel’s face in his hands and he kissed him again, tongue and all. Castiel opened his mouth to him, sighing a breath of relief. Dean kissed him again and again because he’d been without this for far too long.

“Cas,” Dean said, a couple of inches apart from Castiel’s mouth. “I love you.”

Castiel kissed the corner of Dean’s lips. “I love you. So much.”

Dean shivered, not entirely from the cold. “Rose of Sharon. You were talking about me that time in class, weren’t you?”

Castiel smiled, kissing Dean’s temple. “It was my way of telling you how I felt without breaking any rules.”

“No more hiding, right?” Dean asked.

“No more hiding,” Castiel agreed.

And Dean kept kissing him.

♦

After a lot of making out on that rainy evening, Dean did what he should have done a long time ago: introduce Castiel to the wonder that is  _ Mamma Mia! _

Dean knew that they had a thousand things to discuss, things that Dean had been meaning to ask during their time apart, but everything could wait until later. All they needed now was to see the cast of  _ Mamma Mia! _ performing ABBA’s greatest hits. As if ABBA had hits that were not their  _ greatest _ .

Castiel had a lot of questions about the movies, especially when  _ Mamma Mia! _ ended without revealing the identity of Sophie’s biological father. Dean only smiled as he played  _ Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again _ .

“Will we find out in this one, then?” Castiel asked. “Please tell me we will. I need to know. This is vital information. I’m too invested to never find out the truth!”

“Babe, it doesn’t really matter who’s her real dad. The point is they’re all going to act as her dad from now on. She gets three dads. What more do you want?”

“I want to know who impregnated Donna. That’s what I want.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, tough.”

Castiel’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you never get to know.”

“I just don’t get why it matters.”

Castiel scoffed. “Well, it should matter since it’s the entire premise of the story. It’s like if you picked up a romance novel and the couple doesn’t end up together. You’re not getting what you paid for.”

“Lucky for you, you didn’t pay for these movies.”

“Still.” Castiel pouted. It was so damn endearing that Dean had to kiss him. And Castiel’s mood quickly improved.

Right when the first song of the second movie started, Dean pulled away. “Oh, you gotta see this scene.”

Castiel took a deep breath, but fixed his eyes on the TV. Young Donna was singing  _ When I Kissed the Teacher _ to her entire graduating class, and Castiel had a smirk on his face. Dean tried very hard not to kiss him at that moment because he really wanted him to see the entire scene.

“What a great song,” Castiel said.

“Isn’t it?”

“I can forgive these movies for everything now. I think they’re fantastic.”

Dean laughed, looking at Castiel, debating whether he should reveal this embarrassing fact. “I thought of you every time I heard this song. I even downloaded the song on my phone just so I could daydream about kissing you.”

Castiel looked at him, his gaze soft. “I thought about kissing you every waking moment since I met you, Dean.”

The movie was forgotten for another round of making out. When they came back for air and to continue watching the movie, Dean asked, “Why did you decide to teach religion if you’re not really into Christianity?”

“That’s an abrupt question.”

“I can tell how uncomfortable Christianity makes you. I wouldn’t want to teach religion if I had to talk about an uncomfortable topic.”

“Christianity doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” Castiel said, kissing the top of Dean’s head. “My parents do. That, and the way they treat others, believing they’re in the right due to their religious beliefs. Christianity isn’t evil, or good, or anything, really. People make Christianity whatever they want it to be. It’s the same with any religion. I don’t have anything against Christianity, per se. It’s just the reminder of my parents as firm Catholics that makes me uncomfortable.

“I actually love religion. I love the effect it has on people. I love the history behind it. I believe in God, even. But my God doesn’t hate or condemn me for my sexuality. And my God is probably not the same as anyone else’s God. We all have different minds, and we all visualize a god, whether it’s  _ the _ God, or something else they can worship. We’re not very different from each other, you know?”

Dean smiled. “You’re the smartest person I know. Tell me more.”

“I can tell you that I love you very much, and I’d like to watch the movie now because Sophie is singing again.”

“Didn’t I tell you she was the best singer?”

“She is the best singer, but Colin Firth is the best thing to look at.”

“He’s not Mr. Darcy in this one.”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s gorgeous.”

Dean poked Castiel on the ribs, and he jumped because he was extremely ticklish. One of the many, many things Dean loved about him.

♦

Dean and Castiel had spent most of the day cooking. Castiel was in charge of the meal, while Dean was making dessert. They’d made spaghetti and meatballs and lemon meringue pie. Dean was mixing the salad when their guests arrived. Castiel locked eyes with Dean and they shared a nervous glance. Dean nodded, and Castiel went to get the door.

Even from the kitchen, Dean could hear Castiel’s mom loud voice. “I just don’t understand why you made us stay at a hotel when we are family. That’s bad manners, Castiel.”

Dean didn’t hear what Castiel said in response, but then Castiel was back in the kitchen, filling up a glass of wine and swallowing the entire contents in one swig. “Hey.” Dean touched Castiel’s shoulder. “You can do this.”

Castiel pulled Dean close and kissed him. “Thanks again for being here.”

“I’m rooting for you, babe.”

Castiel smiled sideways before walking back to the living room.

Dean finished up the salad and then set the table. He poured glasses of wine for everyone, and then braced himself before stepping into the living room too.

Castiel’s parents were on the couch, a deep frown on both of their faces. Gabriel sat on the recliner, busy on his cell phone. There was a beautiful redheaded woman thumbing through the books on Castiel’s bookcase. She turned around as soon as Dean greeted them. That must be Anna.

“Hello, everyone,” Dean said. “Just letting y’all know dinner’s ready.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said, standing up. “Let’s go sit at the table.”

Castiel’s parents stood as well, but his mom asked, “Castiel, what is this man doing here? Is he your servant?”

“No, Mom, Dean is not my servant,” Castiel said. “I’m sure you remember him. He was here last time you were in Austin.”

Dean put on a friendly smile. “Hi again.”

“Dean, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Anna said, stepping closer to shake his hand. “I’ve heard wonders about you.”

“Really?” Dean asked, looking at Castiel, who was smiling openly.

“I might have mentioned you a few times to my sister,” Castiel said. “Can you blame me?”

Dean chuckled. “Well, I hope I don’t disappoint. It’s good to meet you too. Anna, right?”

Anna nodded. “Did you help Castiel cook? He’s a great cook, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Dean said, walking with her to the kitchen. “But no, I only made dessert.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” Anna said.

Gabriel clapped Dean on the shoulder. “Hey, Dean-o. Glad to see your face here again. Things okay lately?”

Dean grinned, looking at Castiel as he spoke. “Better than ever, actually.” And then he sat beside Castiel as everyone else settled down at the table. 

“Oh, spaghetti!” Anna said. “I love your spaghetti, Castiel.”

“I remember,” Castiel said. “I hope it’s as good as ever.”

“Castiel, will you please explain why he’s disrupting our family dinner,” Castiel’s mom said, who was unfortunately sitting right across from Dean. Her blue eyes were harsh and nothing like Castiel’s. 

“Velma, please, don’t make a scene,” Castiel’s dad said. 

Velma scoffed. “Don’t tell me what to do, Chuck. Our son has allowed a stranger in his house and allowed him to sit with us for dinner. I demand to know why.”

Castiel sipped his wine. Below the table, he reached for Dean’s hand and held it tight. “I will tell you why, Mom. I will tell all of you why Dean is here. I will call Raphael, Michael, and Zachariah to tell them as well, since they could not be here today.” Castiel stood straighter, chin held up high, and Dean couldn’t be prouder. “Mom, Dad, Gabriel, Anna, I’ve been hiding a big part of myself for most of my life. But that ends tonight.” Castiel took a deep breath. “I’m gay. I’ve known I was gay since I was sixteen, maybe earlier. But that’s when I accepted the truth. And Dean? He’s my boyfriend, and I hope that one day he’ll be more. I adore him. He’s the love of my life, and I would appreciate it if you could all show him some respect because he isn’t going anywhere.”

Velma was scowling at Castiel, and then at Dean, rage turning her face red. Chuck didn’t look surprised by the news, nor did Anna. Gabriel was smiling widely.

“Castiel, surely you know this cannot be,” Velma said. “Has our religion taught you nothing? It is an abomination for a man to lay with another man. What you are saying is a terrible sin. I can’t—”

Castiel raised a hand to stop her. “Spare me the homophobic speech, Mom. I have spent my life studying many religions, especially Christianity. I know exactly what the Bible says. In all honesty, I don’t give a fuck.” Velma blinked. “I was born gay, and I will die gay. I don’t care who’s bothered by this fact because I plan to spend the rest of my life being completely open about this.”

“Velma, our son is happy,” Chuck said. “Isn’t that enough?”

Velma glared at her husband. “Of course it isn’t. Not when he’s chosen to live in sin. Castiel, I will not support your lifestyle. You and  _ him _ should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Dean said, unable to hold back his words anymore. “Cas and I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. We’re in love, and whoever disapproves won’t change how we feel about each other.”

“Dean is right,” Castiel said. “I’m not trying to alienate myself from any of you. But I won’t keep this hidden any longer, no matter how much you disapprove.”

Velma stood from the table, her chair scraping the hardwood floor. “Chuck, we’re leaving. I will not stay here and witness our son ruining his life.”

“Mom, please,” Anna said.

But Velma left in a hurry, and Chuck followed after her. The front door opened and closed, and then there was just the four of them.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Anna said to Dean. “Our Mom can be very difficult sometimes. No—all the time.”

“I’ve noticed,” Dean said.

Castiel inhaled a deep breath, and then he picked up his fork and started eating. 

“Cas, you okay?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Castiel said. “I think I am.”

“Gabriel and I have known for years,” Anna said. “We’re not as oblivious as you think.”

Castiel looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”

“Bro, I’ve known since before you hit puberty,” Gabriel said.

Castiel shook his head. “I’ve been so stupid all these years, trying to hide something that was so clearly obvious to everyone else.”

“I’m very happy for you and Dean,” Anna said. “You two make a lovely couple. And I’m relieved that you’ve finally shared this part of you with us. I’ve always worried about you. Keeping something like that inside for all these years couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t,” Castiel admitted. “Therapy has helped.”

“Look at you,” Gabriel said. “Going to therapy. In love. Getting your shit together. I’m proud of you, Cassie.”

Castiel sighed. “When will you stop calling me Cassie?”

“Never.” Gabriel laughed. “You’re stuck with that nickname forever, big bro.”

“Well, I’m just glad you two didn’t run out of here,” Castiel said. “Thank you for sticking around.”

“Please, we’re not as dramatic as Mom,” Anna said. “Well, Gabriel might be, but not me.”

Gabriel tossed a piece of toast at Anna, who cried out in pain. “Not dramatic? You’re the most dramatic person in the family.”

“It’s not a competition, Gabriel,” Anna said.

Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand, on top of the table this time. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Castiel kissed Dean’s temple. “No. It wasn’t.”

The rest of the evening went by smoothly. They finished their dinner and moved on to the pie, which everyone loved. Dean couldn’t take all the credit, though. He let them all know he’d learned everything he knew from Mary. 

Dean could see the weight lifted from Castiel, because for the rest of the night, he was smiling and laughing, catching up with his siblings, who were both pretty cool. 

And then, when everyone was gone, the two of them went to bed, whispering “I love you” to each other before going to sleep. 

♦

Dean walked beside Castiel, holding his hand like it was a lifeline. In a way, it was. Castiel was holding a bouquet of colorful lilies. The cemetery was empty and quiet this early in the morning, and the cool spring air filled his lungs. Dean hadn’t been here since the white casket went down in the ground last December. It had been Castiel’s idea to come. Castiel had never gotten the chance to meet Mary outside of Sam’s videos, which he’d watched many times already. Dean wished he’d introduced them when he still had the chance, but there was no point in dwelling on these things now.

The headstone read: 

**MARY WINCHESTER**

**BELOVED MOTHER**

**WHO TAUGHT US **

**A CRAZY LITTLE THING **

**CALLED LOVE**

**1956 - 2019**

The epitaph had been Dean’s idea, and everyone seemed to like it. Dean knelt in front of the headstone, brushing his fingertips over the words, but lingering over the name. Mary Winchester. This was all that was left of her. Just a headstone and a bit of dirt.

No, that wasn’t true. Dean had a head full of memories of Mary, and thanks to Sam, he also had videos to watch over and over again in case his memories grew vaguer. 

Castiel knelt beside him, placing the flowers in the vase next to the headstone. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Winchester.”

Dean quirked his lips. “Mom, this is Cas. I’m sort of crazy about him.”

Castiel smiled so bright his nose crinkled. “What a coincidence, because so am I.”

Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand again and kissed it. “She would have loved you, Cas. I should have told you the truth about her. I wish I had. I’m sorry.”

Castiel shook his head. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I feel like I always knew her, thanks to you and Sam. And you know what, Mrs. Winchester? I think you were one hell of a woman. And you raised two incredible men. I owe everything to you.”

Dean leaned his head on Castiel’s shoulder. “You can call her Mary, you know.”

Castiel kissed the top of Dean’s head. “I hope you like the flowers we brought you, Mary.”

“They were her favorite.”

“She had excellent taste all around.”

Dean chuckled, touching the headstone again. “Yeah, she really did.”


	12. Epilogue

“When it’s said and done,   
I am yours forever.”

-Mumford & Sons,  _ Rose of Sharon _

_ _

**FOUR YEARS LATER**

_ _

It was difficult staring back at his reflection. He’d always imagined his parents standing next to him on a day like this. The cap and gown looked good on him, though. Ever since high school, Dean had never imagined he would be graduating from college. And yet, here he was. It had taken a lot of time, effort, and sleepless nights, but he’d done it. He was graduating with a philosophy major and social sciences minor. A degree that was mostly symbolic because philosophy majors were pretty much just pretentious assholes. And now he was one of them. Dean didn’t really care, though, because he’d accomplished something. Not by himself, of course not. He’d had a lot of help.

“Are you almost ready? I’m not letting you be late to your own commencement ceremony.”

Dean turned around when the bedroom door opened. Castiel stood there in a gray suit and blue tie, smiling sideways at him. Sophie, no longer a puppy, walked in holding one of her chew toys. She climbed on their bed and got comfortable. They weren’t her co-parents anymore since Dean had moved into Castiel’s house. They were just her parents. “How do I look?”

Castiel stepped closer, eyes trailing down Dean from head to toes. “Honestly? You look good enough to eat. But that has nothing to do with your regalia.”

“Alright, stop trying to get into my pants. We don’t have time for that right now.”

Castiel laughed. “Now who’s in a rush to get there on time? Come on, let’s get going. Sam texted to let us know he and Jess are already there. Jo, Bobby, and Ellen should be there soon. Gabriel, Anna, and Charlie saved all their seats.”

“I guess it’s happening,” Dean said. “I’m gonna walk the stage.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Mr. Magna cum laude.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Excuse me, but it’s very difficult to get that good of a GPA. You’re incredibly smart, and you’ve earned the right to be smug today.”

“Fine. I’ll be smug.”

“Good.” Castiel kissed him. “You ready to go now?”

Dean grabbed his hand. “Lead the way, babe.”

_ _

♦

_ _

“Dean Winchester. Magna cum laude,” the announcer said, and Dean started walking. He was so nervous he would trip in front of his entire graduating class, but he made it through just fine. He heard a huge cheer coming from his friends and family, and he waved at them right before he got off the stage.

And then it was over. 

Graduating was not that exciting. The road there had been difficult at times, but in the end, it was just peaceful. 

Dean wandered outside the auditorium, searching for Castiel. He’d told Dean to meet him by the front doors. Dean had come out of the back, so he had to walk for a while to reach the front.

First, he saw Sam and Jess, holding a bouquet of roses for him. Well, Jess was holding the roses because Sam had little Mary in his arms. Dean approached them, took the flowers, hugging both of them and kissing Mary’s cheeks. She touched his cheek with her small hand and Dean smiled. 

“How’s my favorite niece doing?”

Mary squeezed Dean’s cheek and laughed when he feigned pain.

“I think she’s ready for a nap,” Sam said.

Then he saw Bobby and Ellen and Jo, who told him how proud they were of him. Gabriel and Anna were with them, and they congratulated Dean. Charlie messed up his hair affectionately. 

“Have you guys seen Cas?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “He’s around here somewhere.”

Dean looked through the crowds of people, trying to find Castiel among them. He pulled out his phone to call him when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Dean turned around. Castiel stood there, holding a small black box in his hands. Dean stared at it, as though the box was going to speak to him. And then Castiel knelt on one knee, holding out the box to Dean.

They’d discussed marriage many times already. They were living together, and they had long ago decided to spend the rest of their lives together. Marriage was something solid and stable, and they both wanted that. Dean had been planning to propose soon. He hadn’t had a chance to look for rings because of his finals, but apparently Castiel had taken care of that.

Still. Dean couldn’t help bursting into tears as soon as Castiel started talking. “I met you on this campus over four years ago. From the first time you spoke in my class, I was lost on you. But I’ve never felt more found. I’m so in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.” Castiel took a shaky breath. “Dean Winchester, will you marry me?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, trying to stop crying so he could speak. “I’ll marry the fuck out of you.”

Laughing, Castiel slipped a silver ring he produced from the box around Dean’s fourth finger. Then he stood and wrapped Dean in his arms, kissing him.

A loud cheer sounded all around them, and Dean realized that they had drawn the attention of most of the people there. There were congratulations left and right, but what moved Dean the most was when Gabriel approached them, holding up his phone. He was Facetiming Velma and Chuck.

“Mom and Dad say hi,” Gabriel said. 

It had taken Velma a while, but she’d eventually come around. Castiel had even gone to therapy with his parents a few times, which had done wonders for their relationship. 

Velma was smiling, which was rare for her. “I hope you make my son happy, Dean.”

“I will,” Dean said confidently.

Castiel had an arm around Dean’s shoulders and he kissed his temple. “I’ll call you both later, yeah?” he told his parents.

“Alright, son,” Chuck said. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will. Goodbye, Dad.”

Castiel looked at Dean. “So, how should we celebrate?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood for pie.”

“When aren’t you?”

“Hey, it’s my day.”

Castiel smiled sideways. “Yes, it is. Let’s get some pie.”

Dean took Castiel’s hand and walked with him and their families. Dean thought of Mary, and wished she could be here to see what he had accomplished. He wished he could tell her how right she’d been about everything. He blew a kiss to the sky. He wasn’t sure what he believed in, but he knew that he was damn lucky to get to live this.

It was a really good day.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to the mixtape playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/fj67xmqnlc7q0g70s5ilb05hs/playlist/58Qu2JGYxSMQTyT92u2eVt?si=15rej7wgS-St-Fh1g1noQQ)!


End file.
